


inferno

by eyesopen



Series: trial by fire [2]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Angst, Angst galore, CA:TWS and Iron Man 3 Rewrite, F/M, In which things get considerably worse compared to last time, Major Character Injury, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-12-10 22:51:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 101,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11701518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesopen/pseuds/eyesopen
Summary: There was a lot that she hadn't been ready for. She hadn't been ready for the Chitauri's descent on New York. She hadn't been ready for Gale's death or being a part of an all-star superhero team that saved the world on a regular basis. But what she really wasn't ready for was the aftermath, haunting her two years later, and the new darkness awaiting her.Sequel to Lights Out, part two of the Trial by Fire saga.





	1. dust off your highest hopes

**Author's Note:**

> **read me please!**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> back again with another incredibly long author's note, it'll be the only one you have to endure though so i promise it's worth it! as with lights out, this was a story that i had an idea roughly three years ago and was executed around the same time, this story being written throughout 2014/2015. (noticing a pattern here?) as you know, because i've decided to resume writing cataclysm and posting it to ao3, i've spent some time going through and doing little fine tweaks to the first two installments of this saga and uploading them on here as well since i am nothing if continuous, mostly due to my obsessive need for things to be neat. this truly is my passion project, because i have poured so much of myself into these stories; watching the movies over and over again, taking my creative liberties, writing characters whom i truly adore and have become small extensions of myself over the years, and sharing it with people, no matter how many of you there are, is what i simply want to do when it comes to this. these stories are always some of the ones i tuck myself in with at night if i need a comfortable go-to, a simply good and familiar story, and even if there are only a handful of you reading, knowing i've extended this world to someone else makes me feel good. makes me enjoy it that much more.
> 
> while i am much more comfortable with this fic than i was lights out and this story only saw very minor edits compared to lights out, i will heed you the same warning: this story was written a while ago, meaning that it is relatively dated in terms of my writing style. my execution of fusing elements of nearly three plotlines (you'll see elements of captain america: the winter soldier, iron man 3, and catching fire within this story) as well as working in moments of my own is nowhere near perfect, but i did my best at the time and i was proud of it, i still am. this story was always my favorite, i was proud of the way it read and it was the reason i wanted to continue to move forward with writing cataclysm. like i said on the author's note with lights out, if you're looking for a story that's written well-aligned with today's fic standards, you need not look here, because you won't find anything of the sort. but if you're looking for what i hope is good story-telling, a thriller that will send you for an emotional loop, and to be among a fantasy that brings about a certain air of nostalgia, then you've come to the right place. comments on this installment will also be monitored, and unless i see otherwise, will not be approved. i'll still read every last one of them, and they mean a lot to me, even after so many years and dragging myself through this universe by the hair, it feels like. they're appreciated, and i love you. 
> 
> feel free to contact me with feels or other random things on tumblr @littlegreys or on twitter @swiftleighs. enjoy this blast from the past. xx

Sun poured into the thirteenth floor of the Avengers Tower, the sound of a painfully annoying beeping reverberating through the master suite. A low groan came from the tiny space in between the mountains of feather pillows and fluffy comforter, hardly a space between the two and making it look as though the king sized bed was uninhabited. That wasn't true, otherwise the alarm wouldn't have been set in the first place, and the person underneath the covers wouldn't be growing more and more agitated with each beep. By some miracle, it ceased, only to be replaced with the clear tone of Tony Stark's AI. "Miss Romanoff-Barton, I believe that this was the time you requested to be awoken," said JARVIS mechanically, his voice echoing out through the room.

"What time did I make that decision, JARVIS?" came the muffled grumble, hardly perceptible due to the fact that the sound was cut off by a feather pillow blocking the way.

"Around eight o'clock yesterday evening; you said that you wanted to be up early enough to squeeze in time in the gym this morning before lunch."

"JARVIS, never take anything that I say before ten-thirty seriously. I'm not thinking clearly."

"Duly noted, Miss Romanoff-Barton," the AI said.

The white comforter went hurtling forward, pillows being pushed out of the way as feet met the floor. Sunlight steadily poured in; as she made her way over to the window, she could see the city down below. One thing that she'd learned was that the city never really slept; it was always moving and alive in some way or another. Life never stopped or stilled in the heart of New York City, it was simply a matter of learning to find the mute button in whatever special way worked best. Rubbing her eyes with one hand and brushing the dark mop of wavy hair out of her face, she took a longing glance at all of the other buildings that met the Avengers Tower in height or stood below it. People and cars looked like toys even from the thirteenth floor, and even though it was only ten o'clock, people were moving like it was rush hour already.

"Miss Romanoff-Barton, Mr. Stark is requesting your presence in his lab," JARVIS' voice rang out once more.

"Already?"

"I'm afraid so. He claims that it's urgent."

The elevators in Avengers Tower were supposed to go at lightning speed—Tony's choice of description, not her own—but it still felt like an eternity on the way down to Tony's lab. The thing about Tony was that he never slept. He was an insomniac; the theory was that the more of a creative mastermind you are, the less time there is for you and therefore you have to sacrifice any and all precious free time you have. Occasionally, he'd come bursting in the room at three, four am, still wide awake and insisting that if he didn't have her accuracy statistics, the world would cease to exist. It wasn't that weird anymore, all of Tony's weird antics. It was just another thing to grow accustomed to; just like living thirteen stories up with a lovely view of the city below, being surrounded by such groundbreaking technological advances on a daily basis and knowing that you'd saved the world from an extraterrestrial apocalyptic catastrophe.

As the doors slid open smoothly, a faint ding sounded overhead. She padded along the floor, pulling the cardigan that she had bought with Pepper that had turned out to be two sizes too big, but proved to be a fantastic asset when strolling around the tower that constantly stayed cold tighter across her chest. Tony was standing in front of something—she assumed his latest and greatest—with his back to her, the sound of him making a dent in what was probably another energy drink. "Your tolerance is probably already shot for the day, and it's not even noon yet," she declared matter-of-factly, and the can hit the floor almost instantly.

Tony whipped around, his eyes wide. He seemed a hell of a lot more relieved once he took in the sight of her staring at him quizzically, one eyebrow raised. One of his hands resting over his chest, he slouched his body and let out a long sigh of relief. "Jesus, Katniss, I thought you were Pepper," he said, his voice full of air as he tried to catch his breath.

"Even after you called for me?"

Tony stooped down to pick up the energy drink can, tossing it over in the direction of the trash. Whether or not it made it was a mystery to her. "You always say it yourself, baby bird," he grunted. "I'm getting to be an old man."

"You're forty-four."

"I'm over the hill and I'm not slowing down."

Katniss crossed her arms, eyes flitting around the lab. It was a mess and that was an understatement. Along with his insomnia, Tony had also become something like a slob. It was completely understandable; when one lived in the lab and didn't care about anything but creating and inventing, there was little time for small luxuries such as mopping. There were empty energy drink cans and water bottles strewn all over the tables, various parts and tools lying around in the most random places. "What does Bruce say about this mess?" she found herself asking. No wonder Bruce was always in the lab closer to the penthouse; Tony's was a pigsty.

"Bruce hardly ever comes down here and bothers me, baby bird. I'm along the lines of engineer, he's more or less scientist," Tony explained, waving his hands around madly in an attempt to get his point across. "You've been with us for two years; I thought you would have figured that much out by now."

Knowing that arguing with Tony was a moot point, and telling him that the real reason Bruce probably wasn't working in his lab was because Tony went crazy wouldn't do any extra good. Instead, she just gave him a look. "You're the one who called me in here, remember?" she reminded him, the tone in her voice growing sharper and colder by the second. A lot of things had changed, but Tony Stark's capabilities of annoying her in two-point-five seconds had not.

Tony snapped his fingers, nodding. "Oh, yeah, that. Clint called me, said he and Natasha were in town. They could get here at any given moment; your mother's all for being punctual, you know." Katniss blinked a few times, trying to let that sink in. Tony caught the blank-look on her face, his own expression falling. "I didn't mean to scare you, I just thought I'd let you know before they stroll in and you're still in your pajamas."

Katniss cleared her throat. "You might want to take your own advice on that one," she pointed out, gesturing at Tony's ratty Black Sabbath t-shirt and sweatpants that he'd worn for five days straight. His cheeks flushed a little, but he did his best to play it off by dismissing her with the wave of his hand.

"Go, go. I'll be ready; you just make sure you are. God forbid Natasha deems me an unsuitable caretaker," he grumbled bitterly under his breath. Katniss chuckled to herself, turning around and making her way back to the elevator.

"Doesn't she already?" she called over her shoulder, smirking as she made her way through the doors of the elevator. She pressed the thirteenth floor button, the metal doors sliding together and giving her only a quick glance at the dead-set expression on Tony's face, lips drawn into a line and eyes giving her a knowing look. That was typical Tony.

The ride back up to her room went a lot faster than her initial descent. Katniss combed back through her memory, trying to recall the last time that she'd seen her mother and father face to face. Most of the time, it was letters, phone calls or the ever-so-handy Skype call that Tony had tried to explain to her, growing frustrated with every question she raised about the program—she'd had a lot, too. Fury and SHIELD had been doing their best to keep the two of them busy, and Katniss could understand that. Natasha's disappearance and then her revival had thrown them for a bit of a loop, but it had given them the upper hand with all of their rivals since the general consensus was that the Black Widow was dead. It had certainly kept Strike Team Delta busy, that was for sure. Clint and Natasha were always jetting off to some new country for some new mission; the cycle was get back from one mission just to return to another.

Katniss would have been lying if she said she didn't miss her parents. They didn't live in Avengers Tower like she and Bruce did; there was the occasional visit, like today would be, or they'd stop in for a few weeks and room while they were on a break—probably one that Natasha had threatened Fury into giving them, but other than that, they were always on the go. The past two years hadn't been boring without them, though. Living with Tony was anything but.

The perks of being his goddaughter meant that in a way, he treated her like she was his own child or some sort of national treasure since she was Natasha's, and he seemed to value his life enough to care for her in such a way. There was always something new going on; whether it was testing out the new bows that he'd made with their various features that stunned and scared her all at the same time, going out in the city and exploring all of the things that it had to offer, going out with Tony to any of his various appearances—Clint was never happy about hearing that facet of news but she didn't care, she had a blast—or just sticking to lying in the king sized bed in her room and flipping channels. Life never got boring. She liked to think that she went from one extreme to the other and Tony was making that adjustment as comfortable and extravagant as he possibly could. Then there was Pepper, who, true to Natasha's word, had stuck onto her like glue. She was everything that Katniss wasn't: beautiful, successful, intelligent and nicer than Bruce at his mellow point. But she had proved to be a good friend, and Katniss had warmed up to her almost instantly. Being around Pepper had brought out a side in her that she hadn't realized lay dormant inside of her.

Once the elevator doors peeled back once more, Katniss was strolling through her suite with her beeline's destination the walk-in closet. Humming the whole way, she internally tried to decide what she'd have time for and what she wouldn't. Going to the gym was a necessity; she hadn't lifted a finger, much less rolled out of bed in over two days and her muscles were aching for her to use them again. "JARVIS," she called out to the AI system. "What time did Clint and Natasha say they were going to get here?"

JARVIS replied, "According to the call your father made Mr. Stark earlier, they claimed they would arrive sometime around lunch."

Katniss pondered that thought before diving back through the drawers inside the closet. "They know where the gym is if they want to find me," she muttered to herself, pulling out a pair of compression shorts. She threw her cardigan somewhere in the closet, the sound of clothes on hangers swinging back and forth as the cardigan collided with them before dropping to the floor. Shimmying into her compression shorts and her typical workout tank top, she tossed her hair into a ponytail and started looking for her favorite pair of sneakers, a great invention that Tony and Pepper had introduced her to. It was a lot less of a hassle than the boots had been.

Of course, they were misplaced. Quickly running into her bathroom and searching for them, she returned with her mouth full of toothpaste. Her toothbrush was hanging out of her mouth as she attempted to multitask, searching for the shoes up underneath everything and brush her teeth at the same time. She spotted the toes of her sneakers peeking out from underneath the bed skirt, smiling victoriously. "JARVIS, can you make sure that the gym downstairs is empty?" she asked, her words garbled as she sat down on the edge of her bed and slid her shoes on as best as she could without using her hands.

"The gym is clear, Miss Romanoff-Barton," he confirmed. "Shall I unlock it for you?"

"That would be perfect."

Katniss threw the toothbrush down in the bathroom, spitting out the excess toothpaste and letting the water splash over it only for a split second before striding over to the elevator and mashing down on the button a lot more forcefully than she'd intended. It took a moment, but once the elevator doors opened, she was treated to the sight of Bruce, who already looked five times more composed than she did.

Her cheeks turned red as she stepped in, the awkwardness already swallowing up the confined space. Instead of acting on that discomfort that she knew he had to be feeling, he slid over and allowed her some room, choosing to stare straight ahead while she pressed her floor's button. "You're going to work out, I take it?" Bruce asked, cutting the silence clean in half. Katniss' head rose, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. He gestured towards her outfit with his eyes, a knowing look. "You're not going to do paperwork or be Tony's lab rat in that kind of outfit, Kat."

"Right," she said, rocking back on her heels as the lurch of the elevator took her slightly off guard. After a moment of silence, she decided to ask a question of her own. "And you? Where are you off to?" His head turned in her direction, and she shrugged. "You're not going to do tuck and rolls and fire arrows at things in a button down and Bermuda shorts, Bruce."

"Touché," he admitted in resignation. "I'm stopping by Natasha and Clint's floor, just to make sure it's straightened up, seeing as how the last time it was used Tony had silly string and built blanket forts and I doubt they want to come home to that. I'm almost positive Pepper's got it handled, but I figured I'd give her a little help."

"That's sweet," Katniss said, before immediately jumping to correct herself. "I mean, that's, you know, nice that you'd offer to do that. I'm sure she appreciates that." She could feel the heat once again rising in her cheeks, staring down at her feet.

Being with Bruce had never been a problem. She and Bruce were still something like best friends and it was incredibly easy for the two of them to get along, joking and laughing about the little things. He'd been something like a sanity reassurance; whenever Tony went crazy on a kick or Pepper was agitating her about going shopping, she'd go to Bruce and have a drink with him, laughing at bad reality TV or going out for pizza. It was only when it was just the two of them alone, specifically in close spaces that it got awkward for her. Now was one of those moments, especially because there was a lack of words for the two of them to exchange.

To Katniss' relief, the elevator came to a smooth stop and a small ping signaled the doors' opening. She was quick to rush out, not bothering to turn around and acknowledge his call of "Shoot straight!" Rude as it might have been, she knew that she had to get going. She wasn't going to get in any alone time in the gym once Clint and Natasha showed up and there was only one gym with archery simulations—the one everyone loved to use. JARVIS, being the ever-so-helpful-AI that he was, had already unlocked the gym for her and she slipped through the heavy doors with ease.

Being back in the gym felt like slipping on an old pair of shoes, and picking up her bow was like lying on Tony's memory-foam mattress. She smiled to herself as she slung a quiver of arrows resting up against the equipment wall over her shoulder, making her way into the sim room as Tony so proudly called it, even though he'd stolen the idea from the one that they had on the Helicarrier. Walking in, the glass doors slid shut behind her and the small panel popped up, displaying the options for simulations. Archery was already under favorites, since she'd been the only inhabitant in the gym for months, and she set it to her usual settings. "Hey JARVIS, you mind playing my workout playlist?" she called out as she walked to the center of the room.

"As you wish, Miss Romanoff-Barton." The simulation lights rose, scanning over the room as JARVIS began to play her workout playlist. Tony and Bruce had heavily affected her music tastes, most of it coming straight off of Tony's favorites. Something about classic rock or heavy metal really got her adrenaline pumping.

Shooting at the simulation targets was a lot more fun than firing at the stationary ones in Katniss' opinion. It was more realistic; it got her blood pumping and really pushed her to do more. It was harder aiming at a moving target, and if there was one thing that she knew very well, moving targets were the only kind of targets there were. Tony had programmed for some of them to fire simulation bullets or other weapons at her—some of them had hammers, others had bows and arrows of their own, there were shields and beams of false energy, only capable of knocking her backwards at most. Drawing arrow after arrow, Katniss fired to the tempo of the ACDC song that was blasting out through the room, doing her best to shoot straight through the chest or through the eyes. Most of the time, shooting with the simulations running involved a lot of floor work—getting down on her knees and the occasional tuck and roll that she had mastered and often did just because she found it fun—and since the room was a lot larger than the one she'd messed around with a few years back on the Helicarrier, there was also a good bit of running.

Ducking past one of the simulation bows that came whizzing at her head, she followed the running simulation that was on a platform over her head. The ones that had height on her were the trickiest, since they were capable of ducking behind the pillars and vanishing. Biting down on her lip, she followed his pace with the arrow. Right when she thought she had him, she let the arrow fly and watched it embed itself in one of the pillars. "Dammit," she mumbled to herself, pulling another arrow from the quiver and stringing it up as she looked around for her next target.

She felt a slight tap on her shoulder, and was stunned that Tony had had the audacity to program these things to come up and be able to actually touch her. Whipping around, ready to shoot, she almost released the arrow before she realized that it wasn't a simulation hologram behind her. Instead, it was just Steve Rogers, a terrified look in his eyes as he looked at the arrowhead that was pointed directly at his chest.

"Oh my god," she stammered out, immediately lowering the bow and letting it and the arrow fall from her hand in shock. "JARVIS, kill the music!" The music stopped as she stepped away from Steve, brushing the flyaway hairs out of her face. "I am  _so—"_

"Sorry?" he finished, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Probably shouldn't have snuck up on you."

"Yeah, no kidding," she mumbled, kneeling down to collect the fallen arrow and her bow. "You got lucky that I didn't fire, I was in the zone."

"I saw." The tone in Steve's voice was dry, condescending, and truthfully, irritating. She raised up from the floor slowly, her eyes narrowed into slits as she made eye contact with him.

"Who invited you here?"

"No one, I live here."

"I live here," she corrected him. "You just drop in whenever you feel like and spend the night. You're…you're like the drunk uncle or something." She pushed past him, her shoulder bumping into his purposefully.

She didn't want to see Steve. Had she known that he was going to walk in out of the blue; she would have made JARVIS put her entire floor on lockdown and holed up until he left. She would have taken the awkward elevator ride with Bruce all the way down to hell before she spent time with Steve, expected or not. He, of course, was hot on her heels like a lost puppy as she hung up the arrow quiver and bow on the equipment wall, doing her best to avoid him. "You know, you used to be better at avoiding people," he pointed out as she stormed out of the gym, right behind her.

Not stopping, she tossed her head over her shoulder and shot him a glare. "How would you know?" she hissed. "I've  _been_  avoiding you."

Right about the time that she had turned back around, she found herself colliding with another figure. She knew every inch of the lobby outside the gym; hell, she knew every inch of the Avengers Tower period, and there wasn't any sort of column or object as tall as she was right in that spot. Looking up as she brushed her hands over the top of her head, she was treated to the sight of a slightly confused Clint Barton. She expelled all of the built up stress from seeing Steve out of her in a sigh, smiling. "Clint," she said, leaning over to hug him.

Clint returned it briefly, giving her a thin lipped smile. "Hey kiddo," he responded.

"Don't really think you can call her that much anymore, Barton," teased another voice, one that Katniss had hardly heard in forever. It took only seconds for her to project herself into her mother's embrace, even if Natasha wasn't that big on hugging. She peeled off of her faster than she had Clint, taking into account the fact that she was pouring sweat.

"Good to see you, Rogers," Katniss overheard Clint say, and couldn't fight the eye roll and scoff that rose up in her throat. Natasha just gave her a look, one of her eyebrows lifted out of curiosity. Katniss shook her head as subtly as she could without Steve or Clint picking up on it.

Natasha, being the good human she had the capabilities of being, cleared her throat and spoke up. "Bruce sent us to get you on our way up," she explained. "Where's Tony?"

Katniss shrugged, resting one of her hands on her hips. "Upstairs, probably holing up in his lab like he always does. Why?"

"We need to talk to you two," Clint cut in, looking over at Steve. "Actually, we need to talk to all of you. In private."

"About what?" Katniss asked, her eyebrows furrowing together once more.

"Clint, not—"

"It's about Fury."


	2. trouble in paradise

Katniss had thought her elevator ride with Bruce had been awkward; in reality, it was nothing compared to this. She could feel her skin crawl with every glance that Steve took her way, the snarl building up in the back of her throat as the elevator gained altitude. It was completely silent, of course, since Clint's occasional chatty self had clammed up a lot earlier than usual in his visits. Katniss wanted nothing more than to sink all the way through the floor or blend in with the walls, anything to get Steve's eyes off of her.

Seeing Steve was like a direct kick to the teeth. She had devoted so much time over the past year and a half to strictly avoiding him that being back in his presence was remotely similar to building a house of cards for someone to blow them over like a birthday candle. Steve had become a sour taste in her mouth that no matter how hard she tried, she could never get rid of. Initially, he had been part of the decision she made to move to New York. Being near him was something that at the time, she had wanted, and once things fell completely through the floor with them, was something that made her flesh crawl. She didn't want to see him, didn't want to be near him, didn't even want to know that he was still alive. Whenever he made stops by the Tower, she either made sure she was out and about killing time or put her floor off limits. Tony always rolled his eyes and asked her why she felt the need to lock the whole floor down whenever Steve came, and he never did buy the whole _no interruption needed cleaning session_ excuse. Katniss knew the precautions she needed to take. Steve was just as bitter, but he was also much more lenient and apt to approach her. On the opposite end, there was nothing that could get Katniss to poke him with a ten foot pole.

Like most arguments and fights that Katniss found herself wound up in, the root of the problem had been SHIELD. Her desire to work as an agent had quickly fizzled out, and she found that she was much more content doing consultant work, only being called in when needed. It suited her; she didn't like constantly being under such intense pressure, especially after the New York debacle, and in the back of her mind, Katniss knew she wasn't truly prepared for the physical and emotional baggage of being a field agent. Steve on the other hand, had completely blindsided her by springing the news on her that he was going to begin working for SHIELD, and not just the consultant work either. Steve had been the prime force in derailing her from joining SHIELD as a field agent, and when he’d told Katniss he was leaving in a few days to go to DC, she had been beyond pissed.

The argument that followed had been nothing short of loud; their little screaming match had been so loud that Tony had run down to the parlor with a crowbar—his evidently effective choice of a weapon—because he'd assumed that Loki had broken out of his cell in Asgard and come back for round two. Names and obscenities were being thrown around loosely as they lunged for each other's throats the whole time. The both of them tried arguing the point that the other should follow their steps, and when that went sour, it turned to pointing fingers and calling out accusations. It eventually ended with Katniss screaming that if he’d died out in DC, she wouldn’t be stopping by to close the casket.

To say that she held a grudge wasn't politically correct; she had cooled down a few months after his departure. It was the snide little comments and dirty looks and fights over dinner that kept the hate alive. She never really got past all of the additional instances that made her despise him even more, and every time she saw his name somewhere, she could feel the anger rushing through her bloodstream.

It was pretty obvious how thick the tension was in the elevator. Katniss was all but backed up into the wall, doing her best to put as much distance between her and Steve as physically possible. Natasha was studying her fingernails, clearly unfazed by the awkwardness. Clint, however, rolled all of his weight onto his left leg and cleared his throat. Everyone's eyes were on him in a second. "How long  _is_  this damn ride?" he grumbled. Natasha rolled her eyes, Steve shrugged, and Katniss bit down harder on her lower lip.

Finally, the elevator came to a smooth stop, the doors peeling back. Katniss chuckled to herself as she caught sight of Tony on the far end of the room, doing his best to change his pants and fiddle with whatever it was he was working on. "Really, Anthony?" sighed Natasha. Tony jumped nearly ten feet in the air, his wrench falling clean out of his hands and knocking into his project.

Resting a hand over his chest, he deliberately swiveled his head around slowly in Natasha's direction. "Like mother, like daughter," he said spitefully.

Natasha folded her arms over her chest. “She judges your poor efforts in keeping yourself together, too?" she asked, her voice going up an octave as she mocked him. "Definitely my child."

Katniss watched as Clint looked around the room, clearly displeased with what he saw. The penthouse was hardly any better than the lab; Tony didn't exactly know how to keep things neat and orderly and refrained from cleaning as much as possible. "Wow Tony, you've definitely gotten…worse," Clint said.

"Love you too, bird brain."

"Okay," Steve interrupted from his place next to the elevator entrance, Katniss having to hold back her scoff rising in her throat. "Clint, you said you were here about Fur—"

"Whoa there big guy," Tony interrupted, eyes wide and holding his hand out to stop Steve from going any farther. Throwing a quick glance at him over her shoulder, Katniss could see that he was confused. She smirked, her ponytail almost hitting her in the face when she snapped her head back to its original direction as she sat down on the edge of Tony's couch. Tony himself was tapping away on one of his monitors, enabling all of the soundproof and security capabilities on the room that he could. When he finished, he then gestured towards Clint to continue in a showy manner. Natasha, who was perched on the arm of the couch, glared at Tony for emphasis.

"We're not necessarily here about Fury," he explained, dropping his clasped hands into his lap. "Technically we're here about Alexander Pierce."

Katniss' eyebrows knitted together. "Who?" she asked, eyes flitting over all of the other people in the room. No one seemed to want to respond, so she looked directly at Clint. "Who is Alexander Pierce?"

"He's the senior official over SHIELD," Natasha said, never taking her eyes off of the window she'd fixated them on. "He's not really Fury’s superior, but—"

"He's as good as, Nat. Pierce has the in with the Council members; Fury's asked them for more info on Insight and they aren't budging. Pierce is stringing them along like puppets, I'm telling you." Clint's voice was an exasperated whine in Katniss' opinion; like he had tried to explain this to Natasha a hundred times but she still wasn't buying it.

"I never said I didn't believe you. What I'm saying is—"

"Yes, yes, I know, ' _Fury still has control.'_  Are we sure that's going to last forever though?"

"The Council didn't take anything that came out of Nick's mouth into account before, Clint, it's not just some random change in decision making!"

"When did you start sitting in on Council meetings?"

"When did  _you_  become Pierce's gopher?"

Katniss was incredibly uncomfortable as Clint and Natasha went back and forth, nearly chopping each other's heads off with their sharp responses hurtling around. It was pretty clear that they had had this argument before, judging by their agitated expressions and tired eyes. Tony was quick to butt in. "Okay!" he bellowed, cutting the two of them off. Natasha went back to staring in the opposite direction, Clint's eyes focusing on the floor. Tony's eyes went back and forth between the two of them. "Jesus, trouble in paradise?"

"Stark," Natasha growled dangerously under her breath.

Steve, ever one to try and ease the tension, spoke up. "What exactly is Insight anyways?"

"We don't exactly know for sure. It's pretty tight lipped around the Triskelion, not many people know anything about it after its name and the fact that it's got a whole wing now off limits. Insight's got a high level clearance to know the details; it's got something to do with Helicarriers and satellites and eliminating threats, but that's all I can really say. I couldn't wire tap into the conversations for long, otherwise I'd get caught. My best bet is that you'll be the first to know," Natasha spilled, the corners of her lips twitching as her head tilted in Steve's direction. "He knows you won't ask more than need be. Or he just really underestimates your capacity of curiosity."

"So what, you want me to go in and try to crack Fury?" Steve asked, puzzled.

"What good would it be to crack Fury?" Tony interrupted. "You said it yourself, Fury hardly knows anything himself about the program."

"Fury knows what he needs to," Clint piped back up, still staring at the floor. "He's kept a lot of it on a need to know basis with Pierce from what Natasha and I understand and that's really coming to bite him in the ass."

Tony shrugged. "Right now I'm not seeing why this is a big issue. What's new; the Council is keeping secrets from Fury, Fury is keeping secrets from us, this is all déjà vu. I can practically  _hear_  Loki taunting us from above," he drawled.

"You're having that business banquet party thing tomorrow night, right?" Natasha asked.

"Yes," Katniss cut in before Tony could, finally feeling like she was of some use again. All of their field talk once again reminded her that she wasn't an agent and automatically excluded her from the conversation. Everyone's eyes fell on her; Clint's mouth drawn in a tight grimace.  _Right, he wouldn't be too happy about hearing she was going to another one of Tony's business related things._

"Invite Fury," Natasha said. "Send a drone with the invite, write it in the skyline, just make sure that eye patch is close enough to you to touch. If he comes and he's not under Pierce’s watchful gaze, there's more of a chance that we can pin him down and squeeze more out of him on Insight."

Clint nodded. "The last time we sat around and waited for something, gods and aliens came down from the heavens to kick our ass. The amount of shade coming off of this is dark enough to where we can't see, and that never gives me a good feeling about anything."

Tony let out a sigh. "Fine, I'll invite Captain Hook to the banquet. But you are the one who gets to deal with him, Natasha, not me. I'm pretty sure Fury would like to sling me across a football field after that last chain email I sent him."

* * *

Natasha and Clint had brought bags, which was both a blessing and a curse wrapped into one. It was a blessing because it meant seeing Tony do physical labor and the fact that she got to spend a little more time with her parents. It was a curse because not only did she have to give up precious gym time alone when she wanted it, but because Clint and Natasha loved to try and read her like she was some sort of mission debrief, reading through all of the little mechanisms right down to the nit and grit. Katniss wasn't about that; she preferred the vagueness, but of course, her approval was rarely sought.

After their little team meeting, which had been outrageously awkward, Katniss was quick to bury herself back downstairs in the gym. It was the best way to get away from her thoughts, really, and those were on an overload after talking about SHIELD and Alexander Pierce and Fury.

She thought that by refusing to enlist as a SHIELD agent she wouldn't ever be dragged into the technicalities of it again. Being a consultant essentially meant she would only be forced to sit in on things related to the Avengers, operate only as a part of the Avengers unit and all other SHIELD related things didn't touch her. New York had sent her for a tailspin and that was mainly why she'd refused taking the position. But for some reason, all things SHIELD kept coming around full circle and yanking her in head first.

Grinding her teeth together, Katniss punched the bag in front of her again. The wraps on her hands had to be done poorly, seeing as how they were screaming more than usual. That didn't matter though; the pain of it all was distracting. Distracting enough to keep her thoughts off of SHIELD. She reached up to wipe the sweat from her forehead with the back of her wrist before delivering another blow to the punching bag, another after another. Katniss stepped back for a second, shaking out her aching hands in hopes that would rid them of the tingling feeling. No such luck. Frustrated, she randomly kicked the side of the bag with her foot.

"Didn't realize you were such a big fan of the punching bag," came a raspy voice on the other side of the bag.

Katniss shook her head, retaking her stance and hitting the bag as hard as she could. "Not really a fan of it," she said in between the iron clench of her teeth. "Good stress reliever."

"That's true, but if you keep hitting that hard, you're going to snap your hand clean in half."

"Who are you, my mother?"

Natasha's head appeared from behind the bag, holding it in place to keep Katniss from hitting it again. She had a knowing look on her face; one of her eyebrows lifted and the beginnings of a smirk over her lips. Katniss blushed, hardly making a dent in the redness that had come from her working up a sweat. "Right, sorry."

"Clint wanted to make sure you were okay, you were kind of quiet during the impromptu meeting earlier," Natasha began.

Katniss shrugged one of her shoulders. "Me being quiet is the least of his problems. I'm not much of a wordy one anyways; I take after him in that department."

"So nothing's bothering you, then?"

Her face twisted into a grimace. Natasha gave a subtle nod, as if she was proving a point. Katniss let out a long sigh. "It's just…I really didn't want to have to deal with Steve today, and the two of you coming is a nice surprise and all but when you come in the name of SHIELD, I feel like the pawn out of place and it's like, I don't belong in the meetings, then there's that banquet tomorrow and I can hear Clint's fussing already, and did I mention that seeing Steve was the last of my damn worries?" Out of anger, one of her balled up fists flew out of her control and met the bag hard.

"Your hair is darker," Natasha commented, completely out of left field. Katniss stared up at her puzzled.

"What?" she asked, trying to catch her breath.

"Your hair. It's a lot darker than it usually is, did you dye it?"

"Pepper and I do this once every two months, why is… _what_?" Katniss asked, confused as she brushed a few flyaway hairs out of her face.

"You see how easy it is to throw your thought process through a loop? All you have to do is occupy yourself with something else, preferably something that grabs you off guard." Natasha then began to strip off the tan leather jacket that she always seemed to have on whenever she wasn't on business. "Which is why," she continued. "You and I are going to spar."

Katniss wasn't entirely sure she'd heard Natasha right. Spar?  _Her_? Clint was Natasha's sparring partner, no ifs ands or buts about it. It was almost an unspoken rule that they all had; you didn't spar with Natasha because only Clint could handle her, just barely at that. Natasha seemed to be dead serious on this one. "Nat—no, I can't, I'm not going to—"

Natasha was quick to cut her off. "Yes you can, and yes, you are." She then laughed. "What, are you afraid I'm going to hurt you?"

"I don't know if you've ever seen Clint when you get done with him after the sparring sessions the two of you have, but he looks as though he's been hit by a truck."

Again, another chuckle fell past Natasha's lips as she led Katniss to the center of the room, away from the punching bag. "Sweetie, you really don't think that it's just sparring anymore, do you?"

Katniss' face went blood red as Natasha took advantage of her vulnerability, swinging first. Luckily, she'd seen Natasha's fist coming straight for her and ducked it, barely missing it as she felt the wind from the punch blow past. She straightened out, staring at her mother bewildered. She fought dirty, Natasha. She was willing to do anything for the upper hand; no wonder Clint came out of fights the way that he did. Natasha just smirked, lifting another eyebrow. "Sure you’re not just trying to kill me?" Katniss breathed.

"Fight back and we'll see," Natasha replied, before moving her hand in an attempt to clock Katniss right underneath her jaw. Katniss caught her fist, pushing it back down with one hand and using her foot to swipe at Natasha's knees. The thing about Natasha's fighting technique was that she used her size to her complete and total advantage. She lived up to the name of Black Widow, moving about as skilled and stealthily as her arachnid namesake might. Katniss caught on quickly that this was not an average sparring session; Natasha was actually testing her. She wasn't holding back despite the fact that it was her daughter, in fact, that seemed to be motivating her even more to render Katniss immobile. Katniss had her altered genetic code, and she seemed to be pushing every limit it had. One of Natasha's legs looped around Katniss', pulling her arm downwards as she catapulted the two of them towards the ground in a neat roll. Katniss rolled over on her side hard, hands clawing to break out of Natasha's grip. Katniss ground her teeth together, trying to make it work, but Natasha wasn't budging. Instead, she was doing her best to pin Katniss flat on her back. In retaliation, Katniss jammed one of her hands down into Natasha's stomach and used it to slide up, desperate to top her opponent and win their match.

Natasha fought dirty though, so that wasn't going to work in any circumstance. One of her hands moved up behind Katniss' head, yanking hard on the ponytail and sending her head backwards. Katniss yelped out in pain; from where she had been biting down so hard on her lip, she was pretty sure that she'd drawn blood. She couldn't pry Natasha's hand off of her hair, so in the best form of payback she could think of, Katniss leaned down and bit Natasha. Natasha wasn't one to scream, but even Katniss could hear the strangled sort of noise come from the back of her throat. Her mouth still locked around Natasha's flesh, Katniss did her best to reclaim her ponytail and call it a victory. Her mother, on the other hand, wasn't having that. Natasha yanked a second time on Katniss' ponytail, harder that time, pulling her teeth off of her arm. With that, Natasha sat straight up and slammed Katniss on her side to the ground, their tangled legs keeping her pinned there. "One…two…three," Natasha hissed out through her clenched teeth.

Katniss lay on the ground, immobile. Her head hurt, her legs her; hell, every inch of her body hurt. A small moan escaped her, and Natasha was quick to untangle them. She was up on her feet in a quick minute, while Katniss didn't move. "Come on," said Natasha. "Get up." She'd extended a hand to her daughter, and even though Katniss thought her arm was going to fall off her body when she reached for it, she found it a lot easier to pull herself up.

Natasha was casually pushing her hair behind her ears, looking just as normal as she had when she strolled in earlier. Katniss was almost positive that she hadn't even broken a sweat doing all that. "And that right there is why no one but Clint spars with you," Katniss grumbled bitterly, her breath only coming to her in short, quick gasps. Natasha gave a toothless smile.

"Sorry if I actually hurt you."

"Tell that to my aching limbs."

Natasha waved the thought off with her hand, as if she was actually dispelling the idea from the air. "I got your mind off things, did I not? Go take a nap or something; you've worked yourself near the breaking point already."

"Yeah, no kidding," Katniss replied as she began to walk back over to where her stuff was. "Trust me, you'll be lucky if you can even pull me out of bed for the rest of the day, and it's only twelve-fifteen."

As she made her way over to her bag, Katniss could feel the muscles in her leg locking up. "Shit,” she muttered under her breath, stopping short in her tracks. The pain was unreal in her legs, more so than anywhere else. She took another cautious step forward as a test and nearly shrieked in pain; it felt as though her muscles had ironed themselves out straight and her joints had locked up. The aching everywhere else didn't blend well with the excruciating pain in her legs, and she bent forward to try to catch her breath.

She stood there like that for a minute, the gym so silent that it would have been possible to hear a hair fall off her head and land on the ground. "Everything alright?" Natasha finally asked her voice soft enough to mistake it for something outside on the streets.

Katniss didn't respond for a moment, trying to think through the pain and waiting on it to subside. She could hear her mother's tentative step forward, but no sooner had that happened did Katniss feel like she could straighten up and walk again. Grabbing her bag and throwing it over her shoulder quickly, she turned around to see the genuine expressions of concern colored on Natasha's usually stoic face. "I'm fine," Katniss said, forcing a smile onto her face. "Really, I am."

As she all but ran out of the gym, leaving her mother behind, Katniss wasn't so sure how much she'd actually meant that.


	3. walking into the lion's mouth

Twirling one of the diamond earrings she had on absentmindedly, Katniss blinked a few times, her reflection following suit. Pepper was behind her, straightening out the edges at the bottom of her dress. Every time one of Tony's business banquets or galas rolled around, it was typically seen as an excuse to go all out and glam it up a little. Pepper, who was the dictionary definition of feminine, found a thorough amusement in using Katniss as her own personal Barbie. Katniss didn't entirely mind; Pepper never failed in making her struggle to guess who she was whenever she was directed towards a mirror and let loose.

Tonight was no exception. Pepper had pulled out all the stops and gotten her a dress that was much more exquisite than this party was bound to be. It was long and black, a layered skirt with tiers of lace and the same lace trailing over her chest. Judging by the way Pepper had carefully slipped her into it gave the indication it was designer, nothing short of Tony's desires. Katniss had given her hand at a more intricate braid her mother back in Twelve had taught her years ago, finding a sense of solace in putting her hair in some form of a braid. It had been awhile since she had worn it like that. They usually had a negative connotation nowadays and she had a newfound appreciation for her natural hair. With the braids resting over and across the crown of her head, she had the rest falling down the back in curls, Pepper's touch. Makeup was also Pepper's forte; Katniss would have thought her crazy if she allowed her at the many products all alone. Once Pepper's handiwork was done, Katniss looked like a work of art. She could hardly recognize herself, and that was how she liked it.

"Did you ever find out if Fury was coming?" Katniss asked, gnawing down on her lower lip that had already been painted with one of the thousands of tubes of lipstick Pepper owned, a darker, blood-red color. Pepper hummed in response.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. You'd have to ask Tony if you wanted a definite answer." Pepper fluffed the skirt of the dress out one more time for good measure, rising up from her knelt position slowly. Her hands rested on Katniss' bare shoulders, beaming. "You look absolutely stunning," she sighed happily behind her in the mirror.

"Clint's gonna be pissed, then," Katniss concluded.

"So pissed."

Pepper gave one of Katniss' shoulders an encouraging squeeze, turning away from her and the sound of her heels clicking in the direction of the elevator. Katniss followed behind her aimlessly, like a lost little puppy dog. Pepper's composure and confidence seemed to ooze right out of her, whereas Katniss felt as though she was completely out of place in her dress. "Let me guess, Tony's probably acting up and if we don't hurry up the Tower just might burn down?" Katniss asked as they stepped into the elevator.

Taking a glance down at her watch, Pepper gave her a knowing sort of glance when her eyes came back up. "Really, you're just now catching on with that one?" she replied.

As the elevator lurched to life and begin to shoot upwards, Katniss watched her reflection in the glass. She looked like a doll, almost unrecognizable. There was a certain danger about her, and she knew that would undoubtedly come to life if Steve did his best to approach her. Katniss could feel her lip curl up in disgust as she thought about Steve being there tonight; Clint, Natasha and Steve all had cleared any schedules for the evening and agreed to tag along. Katniss had wanted nothing more than to stomp her foot down and whine, just like a child might. Tony's business parties were for her, Pepper and Tony. It was something she did without the rest of the team and frankly, she wanted to keep them that way. She didn't need her parents or Steve breathing down her neck at every moment of the evening.

With a faint ding, the elevator came to a smooth stop and the doors rolled back. The long hallway that extended down to the ballroom, where most important affairs took place whenever Tony wanted them to happen there in the vicinity of Avengers tower was littered with people here and there, most of them holding wine glasses and chatting adamantly. They certainly weren't paying any attention to either Pepper or herself. Pepper gave her a reassuring smile as they stepped out of the elevator.

No sooner had that happened did Pepper catch the sight of someone approaching them, her face lighting up like a string of Christmas lights. "Natasha! Clint!" she cried happily, the smile on her face a thousand watts.

Katniss turned her head ever so slightly to see her parents walking in her direction, the both of them dressed to impress. It had been ages, if ever, that Katniss had seen them dressed up to the nines. Clint was wearing a dress shirt, deep purple tie and dress pants, a stern look settled on his face—probably due to the sight of seeing her. The dark berry colored dress that Natasha had worn settled over her figure perfectly, like a second skin. Her red hair was twisted into loose curls, bouncing as she walked in time with Clint, heels clicking. The two of them could have been a pair of models. She moved her eyes back down at her fingernails as an awkward silence fell over her, trying to iron out all of her thoughts and figure out what her game plan would be. Avoid Steve, bat her eyelashes at any bartender she saw, and blend in with the wallpaper; that was how most Tony-related things went. Katniss was able to enjoy herself once the alcohol settled in her system. This was mainly because she had a tough time remembering what she did the next day, but she knew it was something that had made the night a little more exciting than before.

"Haven't seen your hair in a braid in a while," said a calm voice over her shoulder, Katniss jumping nearly ten feet in the air. She whipped around, eyes wide as she took in the sight of who had been so foolish as to startle her like that. Sure enough, it was the person she last wanted to see. Steve had his hands deep in the pockets of his dress pants, hardly any sort of emotion on his face.

Her glare was made of steel as she opened her mouth moments later. "Because I don't wear it in a braid anymore," she said, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. He started to reply to that, but something in her sent her moving forward, stalking down the hallways with an expression of murder colored on her face. She supposed that if someone wanted to find her, then they'd have to go on a manhunt.

As she pushed through the doors, she found herself stop short in her tracks. Like all things Tony did, it was opulence at its finest. Endless wine glasses keeping their guests' hands occupied, music playing off somewhere in the back of the ballroom, and an abundance of people surrounding her. Even in the near darkness, she could see heads turn over their shoulders, eyes locking in on her like she was some fascinating sight.

She was quick to dart off into the crowd, trying not to think about the hands and other body parts that were accidentally—or purposefully, she was never sure as to which it was—brushing over her shoulders as she tried to find somewhere solitary. "You running away or something?" yelled a voice over the music and the chatter that sucked away the silence. Katniss turned around, only to see Clint staring at her.

"I guess," she shrugged. "I just…need to get away from everyone that I know and relish in the fact that I'm surrounded by strangers." Clint nodded understandingly.

"Well, if one of those strangers happens to look like Fury, you find me or Natasha, okay? This needs to be a group discussion with him, and that means the whole group is present."

"Yeah, sure thing." Katniss started to walk off again, before Clint grabbed her wrist and tugged it gently to get her to turn back around. "What?" she asked.

Clint smiled softly. "I hate you being at these parties, you know that. But you look beautiful." Katniss returned the smile as he dropped her wrist, disappearing somewhere into the mass of people.

* * *

Katniss' head was buzzing slightly, sitting down the just-emptied glass in front of her. Of course, the night had been exactly what her expectations had been; boring, lifeless and counting down the seconds until she could sneak back down to the thirteenth floor and put it on lockdown. Being the youngest person at the party, she was shoved to the side more often than not and the loneliness got to her rather quickly in social situations like these. She hoped and prayed that things would begin to turn around—maybe Tony would get some more alcohol in his system too, or some nameless guy would approach her and intrigue her with senseless conversation. She was craving it at this point.

Sighing and resting her chin down on top of her balled up fist, she craned her head around to the side. Katniss focused on a specific point in the room, rather empty, to watch absentmindedly. That was until she saw a few men dressed in entirely black, squinting her eyes to get a better look. Her initial assumption was that it was a few of Tony's guys, but after a moment, she couldn't match any of the names she knew to those faces. She was familiar with all of Tony’s crew, and none of them looked like that. She then saw a flash of a grey suit, straightening up at the sight.

Letting her curiosity gain the better of her, she rose up from her seat and began moving through the throngs of people, trying to keep up with the grey suit or any of the men in black surrounding him. Most people were standing around, drunk or halfway there and would hardly budge, causing her to have to shove and push her way through. It was frustrating; all of the people Tony knew or rather, seemed to know him had no courtesy installed inside whatsoever.

"Katniss!" Hearing her name being yelled out over the collective murmur of voices wasn't a rare thing to happen, and she was quick to dismiss it. After that the hint was received on any typical standard. Unlike usual though, this one kept trying. "Katniss, wait up!"

Huffing irritably, she swiveled around on her heel to shoot her glare at none other than Steve Rogers. "Christ, what do you want?" she hissed.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"It's none of your business."

"Not likely."

Rolling her eyes, she took a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure that she still had some sort of view of the people she was trying to chase down. They were already on the other end of the room, moving quickly. In the back of her mind, Katniss knew she had to lose Steve and fast. "Look," she finally said, leaning in towards him so he could hear her without having to scream. "I'm trying to follow those guys. They weren’t invited, I know everyone on the guest lists," she explained.

Leaning back, she could see the changed expression on Steve's face. Raising one of her eyebrows as a follow up, she pointed over her shoulder in the opposite way. "Go," he said, head nodding in their direction. "I'll tell the others you got sick off of the coconut shrimp. If it’s trouble, send for us."

As much as he did annoy her, Katniss couldn't deny the fact that Steve was fabulous at coming up with cover stories and never wavering in his capabilities of having her back. She was back on the prowl, weaving through people and trying to avoid wearing red wine for the rest of the evening as she did her best not to knock them out of her way. Her footsteps were increasing in their pace, eyes locked in on the furthest man in the small posse that seemed to be standing guard around the grey suit.

He stopped in his tracks, a small rush of success running through her. The closer she got to him, the harder her heart throbbed inside of her chest. She was only a few feet away from the tight knit circle when they all peeled away, revealing who was standing in between. Her original assumption had been spot on: whoever this was, they certainly weren’t invited.

Katniss' pace slowed, freezing only a few steps away as she tried to figure out who it was she'd just fought the crowd to catch up with. The grey suit was a vest, a white dress shirt underneath. The man was rather small, nowhere near the physical presence that seemed to call for that number of people on his security detail. She’d had the small inkling it may have been Fury traipsing about, but the blonde hair was enough to throw her entirely off that trail. He seemed as though he belonged there, standing amidst his pack of men. Maybe she didn’t know everyone Tony slapped on the guest lists.

Right as she turned to escape and melt back into the crowd, the man spotted her. "Miss Everdeen?" he called out, loud enough to where she could hear the use of her old last name and cringe at it. Internally damning anything she could pin the blame onto, she slowly turned back on her heel and forced the smile onto her face. The man was standing only a few feet away from her, close enough to where she could touch.

"It's…um, Romanoff-Barton now," she said softly, the heat rushing into her cheeks.

"My apologies," he smiled. "I haven't kept up with you like I ought to, I'm afraid."

"It's okay," Katniss was quick to insist. "My name change was never publicly announced."

The man clicked his tongue with the sound of disapproval, the smile still on his face. "What a shame." Katniss forced out a nervous chuckle, wishing that something would happen and she would melt into the floor. Or perhaps, Steve would return and begin bothering her once again. She actually welcomed the thought of that idea at this point.

It was like something snapped inside of the man, shaking his head as he extended one of his hands. "Where are my manners?" he apologized, flashing quite the sickening grin. "I'm Alexander Pierce."

The blood ran cold inside of Katniss' veins as she lifted her dead-weight hand, numbly shaking his hand. Inside her head, alarm bells were ringing at the loudest volume possible. She would be accepting of any distraction, regardless of what form it came in. She just knew that she had to get away from him. All of Natasha and Clint's words were bouncing around in her head, echoing.  _Pierce is stringing them along like puppets. You don't trust people like him._ On the outside, she did her best to keep her composure sewn together. "Nice to meet you," she said, trying to hide the strangled tone. "You work for SHIELD, right?"

"Senior official," he confirmed. "Director Fury received an invitation, but he found himself preoccupied with other matters. I willingly came in his place; he sends his best regards and apologies."

"That's okay," Katniss replied, unsure of what sort of response he was expecting to that. An awkward silence fell over them, her conscious screaming in the back of her head to take advantage of it and make her great getaway. The longer she stayed in Pierce's vicinity, the more she could feel her skin crawling. There was something about him that came off wrong, and it wasn't thinking back on her prior knowledge of him either. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled apologetically. "I'd love to stay and chat, but—"

"Actually, I was hoping that I would be able to talk to you," Pierce interrupted smoothly, Katniss' mouth left hanging open with the word flow cut off short. "In private. Do you think…?"

His trailing off was some sort of cue for her to pick back up. Shaking her head, she straightened back her shoulders. "Oh! Um, I really don't know if I should, Tony will be looking for me."

"Nonsense, Tony has hundreds of guests here tonight," Pierce said, dismissing that thought with the wave of his hand, as if that was dispelling it from the very air around them. Another smile. "I'm sure he won't miss us for a few moments, right?"

Katniss swallowed hard, realizing that she wasn't going to be able to wiggle out of this one as easily. "Yeah, sure," she admitted in defeat, disheartened. Inside her chest, her heart was threatening to jump out of her ribcage. This was a horrible, horrible idea and she knew it. But there was no getting out of it. She got the feeling that Pierce would make sure of that.

Silently and submissively, Katniss followed Pierce and a few of his men out the back door of the ballroom and down the back hallway. She kept her distance behind Pierce, feeling the heat rising and the walls closing in on her. She knew what this was a sign of. Katniss started naming off American presidents in her head to keep her calm. It was a new calming tactic that she'd learned, since counting her breaths didn't help much anymore. Natasha had helped her with it, drilling them into her head until she could spit them out in her sleep. It did little to keep her mind off the fact that she was following after a man that was shadier than an oak tree and that Clint would kill her for willingly doing so, but it did enough. Pierce walked fast, slipping his way into an unlocked, empty office on the end of the back hall. Two of the three men that had accompanied them rooted their feet into the ground on either side of the doors, watching her as she followed him inside.

Pierce had been a few steps ahead of her and was already looking at the contents on the bookshelf resting against the wall, Katniss' eyes trained on him cautiously. The doors startled her slightly as they came to a loud close behind her. It was deadly quiet in the room, Katniss daring to take a few steps closer to where he was. "You know, Miss Romanoff-Barton, I've heard lots of things about you," Pierce finally said, breaking the silence without ever looking in her direction.

"Really?"

"Captain Rogers seems to be quite fond of you, as do your parents and Director Fury. It's almost as if you're the crowd favorite among the Avengers," he mused. "The rest of the world certainly seems to think the same."

Katniss laughed nervously. "I…I doubt that."

"You do?" Pierce asked, throwing a glance at her over his shoulder. "I wouldn't, but, do tell me, why is that?"

Pierce seemed to enjoy asking questions that she didn't have any sort of answer to around at her. "Well," she started. "I mean…I did what I had to do in New York, and then I took my step back.” Katniss’ eyes averted downwards, towards the floor as she shrugged. “I’ve seen the commercials, the action figures, but I don’t think…that doesn’t mean people are looking to me. There’s six other Avengers who fought that war with me.”

"You fought very hard, Miss Romanoff-Barton," Pierce said coolly, his hands moving to brush over the top of the desk and his eyes following. "That day in New York couldn't have been easy, knowing it was up to you to save the world. I hear people talk all the time, in the Triskelion, even out and about. They say that New York was the war against aliens, the war against the great unknown. A war that only the Avengers could have fought for us. Hear me when I say that I am every bit grateful for that." He paused, his steely blue eyes rising to lock onto hers. "But that was no war."

"I don't—" Katniss stammered.

"You were simply doing what you needed to do. SHIELD gave you a nudge, and the Avengers did everything from there on their own accord to keep our world safe. New York was no war. Tell me, would you like to be in a  _real_  war?"

"No." The word flew off of her tongue so fast that she hardly had time to process a legitimate answer, one that didn't sound like she was utterly terrified. Pierce nodded.

"Good. The world is already a scary enough place." He then gestured for her to sit down in the lone chair in front of the desk. She did so, hands sweating profusely as she ran her palms along the sides of the arms on the chair. "Agreed?" he asked, after his pause.

"Agreed."

"Which is why I think you will be more than happy to assist me," Pierce said. "For some, the battle of New York is still a fresh reminder of the danger that lurks in this world, threats that lie out of the population’s control. Before then, SHIELD was able to suppress these threats, do damage control and keep these incidents under wraps, but with New York…the whole world was watching. The veil was torn away. Are you familiar with the reasons SHIELD was founded, Miss Romanoff-Barton?"

"To...keep people safe?" Katniss stammered.

"To keep people safe. To save people. And the best way to do that is to keep them in the dark. What they do not know does not hurt them. People today need only a simple blanket statement of security, and they feel safe, they do not go looking. And if an Avenger is the one telling them things are safe, who are they to question it? They feel safe when they see you, Katniss. You are a symbol of protection to them, a symbol of hope."

Katniss could feel her mouth drying out, tongue failing to work. "I…I can't help them," she mumbled.

"Yes you can," Pierce corrected her. "And you will. Let’s use what hope we have, and give the public more. You’re more than just an Avenger, being Tony Stark’s goddaughter: you are a public figure. People listen when you speak, they stop to look at you when you appear. While SHIELD rebuilds that torn veil, you give the people a reason to rest. We show them that Katniss Romanoff-Barton has moved on and is thriving, because she trusts that the threats are gone, and if any should show up, she knows they will be taken care of accordingly."

Shaking her head, the frustration began to rise up in the back of her throat. "I don't think you understand. I'm not a SHIELD agent, I don't work under them. I'm an Avenger and an Avenger only; I'm only allowed to be used at SHIELD's disposal when it requires the talents of the entire team," she quoted from memory, thinking back on how Tony had explained it to her. "I'm a consultant at any other time, and I can't be touched." The growing edge of defiance in her voice was growing stronger.

Pierce's calm façade was beginning to crack as his eyes narrowed at her. "Miss Romanoff-Barton, you may be untouchable, but the rest of your team is not. Your parents, Captain Rogers. Surely you wouldn’t like to see them fall into danger that could be prevented, would you?” Katniss could taste the bile in her mouth as he continued on. "Agent Barton and Agent Romanoff  _are_  at my disposal. And judging by the footage from New York that I've seen, you aren't one to easily let those that you love walk out on the line when you get a say."

Blinking rapidly, Katniss stared at the edges of the desk and studying the detailing on it, trying to distract herself from the words that Pierce was feeding her. "Just tell me what you want me to do," she muttered.

"You are their symbol of hope, so continue to give them hope. Let them see you, let them _hear_ you. Let them know there is no reason to be afraid. Convince them."

"And if I can’t?" Katniss whispered, too horrified to think of what his answer could be.

Instead of responding, Pierce just smiled. "Don’t doubt yourself, Miss Romanoff-Barton; I think you are much more capable of this than you seem to believe," he replied. He then nodded in her direction, walking around the side of the desk. She blinked again, a tear slipping down her face as he gave one of her shoulders a squeeze. Instinctively, her head lowered even more. She kept a close watch on his feet as well as his other security guard's, watching as the doors opened just to close once again. Their heavy footsteps grew farther and farther away in distance, a shaky sigh of relief escaping her.

Pierce was messing with her, trying to get inside of her head. Katniss could understand why Natasha and Clint didn't trust him as far as they could have thrown him; he was like a serpent and there was no way to know for sure what he truly had up his sleeve. She started rattling off presidents in her mind to calm herself down, shaky and choppy breaths falling out of her mouth as she gripped the arms on the chair tightly. About the time she reached JFK, the door busted wide open.

"Oh my god, Katniss, there you are!" Pepper sighed in relief, hand resting over her chest as her companions flooded in the room. "We've been looking everywhere for you; Tony refuses to get up and make a speech until he knows you're in the room."

Natasha had her hands on her hips, standing in the corner—chances are, it had been her to kick the door in, judging by the way she was standing. "Why are you in here in the first place?" she asked, brushing a few of her scarlet curls behind her ear.

Katniss was silent, her mouth open but no words coming out. Clint's eyes narrowed. "Katniss," he said dangerously. "Who was in here with you?"

It took her a moment to realize he was waiting on an answer. "Oh!" she exclaimed, jumping up out of her seat and swiping underneath her eyes to wipe away any of the wetness. "No one, just me. I…thought I saw Fury, but I guess I just had a little too much to drink. Needed to take a minute, that’s all." Her eyes landed on Steve, who was standing by the door and looking rather concerned. "I told Steve where I was going. Right, Steve?"

Every eye was on him in a second, Katniss' pleading for him to go along with it. "Oh, um, yeah," Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"So you haven’t seen Fury?" Natasha asked. Katniss shook her head in disagreement.

Pepper looked back and forth between them. "Alright, well, if that's all, Tony's probably being pushed towards the microphone at the moment, and we had better get back in there before he heinously derails. He's definitely got alcohol in his system."

The walk back down the hallway to the ballroom wasn't as scary as it had been, now that she was no longer alone and with Pierce. It didn't seem as dark, either. Something about Pierce brought that on. Katniss wondered if Pierce was back in the ballroom or if he had disappeared like a shadow into the night. The thought of bumping into him again didn't appeal to her; in fact, it terrified her. "Your hands are shaking," Natasha commented dryly, shaking her out of her thoughts.

"What?" Katniss lifted one of her hands, noticing that sure enough, it was trembling. "Oh," she laughed falsely. "Just a little chilly, that's all."

She could tell that her mother didn't buy that whatsoever, but it wasn't like there was any time to question it. The minute they'd stepped back into the ballroom, Tony had begun speaking animatedly, Pepper darting up to the front to make sure he was on track. Katniss and the other three moved a little closer towards the front to where he was, trying to get a better look at the crowd as a whole. Apparently, the hunt for Fury was still on. Katniss could hear Natasha and Clint's exchanged whispers as they tried to locate him, internally chiding them for even trying.  _He's not even here. It's Pierce that came._

Looking over her shoulder for only a moment, her blood ran cold as she caught sight of Pierce in the throngs of people listening to Tony drone on and on about sales and business accomplishments. He was listening closely to Tony, his eyes drifting over and picking up on her stares. Pierce smiled at her briefly before going back to giving Tony his full attention.

Katniss turned back around, swallowing hard. It was going to take a lot more than naming presidents backwards to calm her down this time.


	4. everything's not enough

"Katniss. Katniss, can you hear me?" A set of hands found her side, shaking her gently. "Are you awake yet?" No response.

For Katniss, she was still half-asleep and couldn't deter the voice in reality from her dreams. Things were still cozy and comfortable, nestled in her bed, and just like that, they weren't. Shooting straight up in bed the minute she felt the ice, she jerked backwards and scrambled to untangle herself from her now freezing, sopping wet sheets. Pushing the now wet and matted hair out of her eyes, she glared at the source. "What the  _hell_  is wrong with you?" she hissed, grinding her teeth together.

A nonchalant Natasha stood above her, holding a now-empty bucket in her hands. "Good morning," she said, with no signs of her usual tell-tale half smirk on her face. She was as serious as a dead body.

Katniss stared at her, bewildered. "Yeah, it was," she said slowly, before gesturing to the knotted sheets still plastered to her shins. " _Before_ I caught pneumonia.”

Natasha gave a one-shouldered shrug. "It's already nine-thirty."

"Still don’t see the problem."

"At night." Katniss clammed up quickly, not realizing that she'd slept that late. Last night had gone from bad to worse after her confrontation with Alexander Pierce. After Tony's speech—which, it had been incredibly evident that he had been drunk—she found herself glued to the bar. Drink after drink after drink, she was willing to do anything to take her mind off of Pierce's threats and cautious eye on her ever since they'd walked out. She could still feel her skin crawling just at the thought of his snake-like smile. It had turned her stomach inside out, and once she made it back to her floor, she was a drunk, sick mess. She'd fallen straight into bed, where she'd been tormented by nightmares every time she tried to effectively give into the effects of the alcohol. Usually she passed out straightaway, but the stuff in her systems hyped up her dreams and made them twenty times worse. They all involved Pierce either killing her, killing her family, or making her kill someone else, and they all involved her jolting awake and throwing up until there was nothing left in her stomach and was merely dry heaving. She'd slept on the bathroom carpet until god only knew what time before she finally made her way to her bed and actually passed out. The time had meant nothing to her.

"Besides," Natasha continued. "You were unresponsive, and I had to resort to another alternative. JARVIS playing Highway to the Danger Zone didn't seem to work."

"Unresponsive?" Katniss spat, reaching down and peeling the drenched sheets off of her legs and rolling out of bed. "I was asleep. Unlike you and Clint, I sleep reasonably well. Not to mention, I'm pretty sure that there were about a thousand other alternative options, options that didn't involve you getting water from the middle of the Arctic Sea and dumping it on my head." Bumping into her mother purposefully on her way past, she began to scrunch up handfuls of her hair, wringing the water out of them. The natural curls were already starting to come out, and not the beautiful sort that she'd been adorned with last night. "Should have just played Highway to the Danger Zone on a loop, it would have worked. Eventually."

"You reek of liquor," Natasha commented dryly, her watchful eye following her daughter across the room. Katniss' cheeks turned pink, but she kept on wringing out her hair in hopes that her mother would take the attention off of the obvious. Folding her arms, Natasha took a tentative step forward. "Tell me, how  _did_ you get around the bartender with no ID?"

"Bartender doesn't check for IDs," Katniss noted, focusing on a random spot in the mirror she was staring into, a spot that wasn't Natasha's reflection. "I've been getting around it since I was eighteen. Figured if I'm considered legal enough to kill aliens and they trust me enough to do most things conscientiously, my doing a few shots isn’t deemed a national problem." She was silent, waiting for Natasha to chew her out in her native Russian.

"In most circumstances, this would be the part where I tell you underage drinking is wrong and that you're killing off brain cells or ruining development, some kind of shit," she started, sitting down on the far end of Katniss' bed where it was most likely still dry. "But, you've never been a normal circumstance to begin with."

"So you're not going to rat me out?"

"To who?"

The room was silent as Katniss stared at her wrists that were still working at her hair. "What brought you down here?" Katniss finally asked. "I figured you would have gotten the memo that interrupting me when I sleep is a horrible idea."

"Oh, Tony warned me. I took the liberty upon dragging you out of bed myself; Clint and Pepper would have babied you out of bed, and Rogers could coax you with a golden bow and arrow and you wouldn't budge." Katniss made a face, to which Natasha finally smirked at. "They want to talk about something, refused to do it until you were awake. All I know is that Tony's more wired than usual and Clint looked like he'd seen a ghost."

"So great news, I take it," Katniss muttered grimly as she pulled her go-to cardigan around her shoulders. Running her fingers back through the damp and mangled mess of hair that was sprawled over the top of her head and sweeping it up into a messy ponytail, she led the way towards the elevator. "God, I'm really sick of all these damn team meetings."

"They don't ever slow down in numbers," Natasha pointed out as the elevator doors drew back, the two of them stepping inside.

Her finger jamming into the penthouse button, Katniss let out a small sigh. "Good to know." The elevator didn't waste any time, shooting upwards towards the top of the building. Normally, the speed and the ascent didn't bother her too much, but with all the alcohol in her system, the lurch was sickening. Katniss had a tight grip on the railing behind her, catching Natasha's observant glance over before closing her eyes. She didn't understand why the penthouse seemed like it was so far away; usually the ride was a lot shorter. Then again, every time she'd set foot in that elevator since her parent's arrival, the rides had felt longer and longer, usually because they was always something awkward going on. The faint ding overhead and the usually-regular-but-overly-exaggerated-stop signaled the end of the ride, and Katniss almost sprinted out of the doors once the gap between them was wide enough for her to slip through.

There was a low whistle from the opposite side of the room. "Damn, baby bird," said Tony, a chuckle following. Her eyes locked in on him; he was sprawled out on his couch, an empty plastic water bottle in his hand. Judging by the smirk on his face, there probably wasn't water in that bottle, but she didn't make that comment. Instead, she glared at him as he continued. "Sleep all day, party all night; you're turning into quite the typical kid your age."

"Oh, yeah,” Natasha had gotten out before Katniss could even open her own mouth in retaliation. "Because being the hybrid of two super spies and having thwarted an alien invasion under your belt before eighteen _screams_ typicality." Katniss smiled supportively in her mother's direction.

"We went through all sorts of different ways to wake you up after twelve-thirty; made it a game. ‘ _Whose outrageous idea will wake up Sleeping Beauty?_ '" Tony ignored Natasha completely, making air quotes with his hands as he stared up at the ceiling for some kind of dramatic effect.

"Although I do see where you get the kid assumption; her alcoholic habits mimic yours, which are that of a nineteen year old on a vodka diet," Natasha retorted coolly, folding her arms over her chest.

Tony sat up, almost falling off of the couch in his attempt. "Look," he said, pointing an accusing finger at Natasha. "You let the kid come live with me, I never promised a clean track record."

"Obviously."

"Stark, we got the feed from the security cameras, and you're not going to believe—" Clint's voice said from somewhere behind Katniss, even though she couldn't pinpoint his location anywhere. It took a moment before she saw him standing in the doorway of Tony's penthouse lab. The darkness coming from the window along the wall behind him had disguised him from her view when she'd first walked in, as well as Bruce, who just so happened to be standing next to him.

Katniss swallowed hard, that spinning feeling coming back to her that she often got whenever she woke up the morning after. Leave it to Tony to drag her into the most awkward situation of her life.  _The only thing that could make this whole situation even worse would be if Steve decided to saunter on upstairs and join the party._  "Believe what?" said someone from behind Katniss, and she internally groaned as she watched Steve walk around her, a drink in either hand.  _Spoke too soon._

She felt Natasha's hand tugging on her wrist gently; gesturing for her to sit down next to her on the couch opposite the one Tony had lounged back out across. Katniss didn't budge. "What do we not believe?" Natasha asked, looking over the back of the couch at Clint and the others.

"Am I going to have to get up and come look at this, Legolas?" Tony said, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, closing his eyes.

"'Fraid so, Tin-Man," Clint replied.

Katniss didn't need to hear any more, halfway to the lab before Natasha or Tony had the time to pull themselves out of their seats. Wrapping her cardigan around her tighter, she slid past Clint and Bruce through the doorway. It was always a good fifteen or twenty degrees colder inside Tony's labs, because the cold apparently kept him awake and alive. His penthouse lab was always kept pristine and sparkling-clean, mostly because he tried to refrain from using it. It was for show, or, in cases like this, a lab that he'd willingly let the Avengers stroll into and not have an anxiety attack that Thor would accidentally crush anything important.

Pulling herself up onto a lab table, she swung her legs absentmindedly as she stared around the room. Several of the monitors had been turned on, clearly Clint and Bruce's work. "So what's this fabulous discovery you two have made?" Tony asked dramatically, strolling inside of the lab with Natasha right behind him.

"Remember how we invited Fury to the party last night?" Clint asked, slipping around one of the lab tables to get past Tony and Natasha's blocking of the small walkway. Tony nodded. "Well, we had a visit from SHIELD last night, but not in the form of our eye-patched pal."

"So who did SHIELD send, then?" Natasha asked.

Katniss craned her neck, a glimpse of the security camera feed that Bruce was trying to conceal with his frame in front of her even though she knew the answer all too well. "Alexander Pierce," she said monotonously, every eye in the room snapping onto her.

"Pierce came?" Natasha repeated dumbfounded, looking to Clint for some sort of response. He only shrugged.

Katniss was staring at her kneecaps, trying not to think about Alexander Pierce. Thinking about him tied her stomach in knots, and she already felt like she was walking on sea-legs. It also didn't help that Steve was burning holes into her from across the lab, staring at her as if she might disappear at any given moment. Katniss knew that Steve wasn't stupid; Steve had more pieces of how her night had actually gone than anyone else in that room and he was probably putting them together in his mind with ease. That was bad news for her. The assumption was that Pierce wished for their conversation in that office to stay between them and if Steve knew, she couldn't imagine the things Pierce would do to him. Keeping people safe started with her team, no matter how badly they irritated her.

"Why would Pierce have shown up instead of Fury?" Tony asked, moving Bruce out of the way to take a look at the monitor himself. "Fury's always looking for a reason to weasel his way into my home and give me hell for every little thing I've done since he last saw me."

"My guess is that Pierce wants to weasel his way into your home and find out how to bring it down from the inside," Clint said. "Because I got news earlier that Natasha, Steve and I are all being pulled out at the end of the week to go to California for an op."

The blood in Katniss' veins ran cold. This was not a part of the plan; this was not supposed to be happing. She didn't understand how this had already happened so soon; Pierce had promised her to keep them out of harm's way unless they she didn't comply. Had Pierce been watching her at that party and changed his mind, decided to go ahead and pull her parents into the field where she couldn't keep them safe, to show her that this wasn't a game? Was this merely coincidence? No, there was no way. Nothing was a coincidence anymore, Katniss didn't believe in coincidence. Everything meant something. He was everywhere, no matter what she liked to think. And this was Pierce's way of demonstrating what he'd do to Katniss if she so much as put one toe out of line.

Hopping off the table, she found her legs moving underneath her. Her breathing was already getting more rapid, trying to push past her teammates and get out of the lab. "Katniss!" she could hear Tony and Steve call for her as she slipped out of the room, darting for the elevator. Their voices sounded more like hums, far off in the distance. "Katniss, wait! Come back!"

She couldn't force herself back to that lab; her fight or flight mode had kicked in and it had carried her all the way to the elevator. She could see the confused and concerned faces of her parents and teammates as the elevator doors slid to a close. Punching a random button blindly, the tears clouded her vision and she crumpled onto the floor. The sobs kept catching and hitching inside of her throat, threatening to spill over but never seemed to get out. Tears freely flowed down her face and she curled up into the tightest ball she could, in hopes that it would bring about a sense of security. It did no good. "JARVIS," she said in a weak voice. "Corrupt any footage you have on the elevator cameras since I stepped in."

"Yes, Miss Romanoff-Barton."

* * *

Arms sore and covered in sweat, Katniss pulled another bow from her quiver and pointed it at the still target she'd been firing at for over half an hour, dozens of arrows firmly embedded in various spots she'd focused on. She couldn't stay cooped up inside her room, thinking about what Pierce had done. It would have driven her mad. The only plausible option that had presented itself was to go downstairs to the gym and work all the pain off. Her head was throbbing, partially from the lack of food in her system, partially the remainder of her hangover, and partially the fact that whenever she stressed, the first sign it was going too far was the headache.

"What are you doing, kiddo?" said a voice from behind her, right as she let the arrow fly. It startled her, causing the arrow to miss its intended target and wobble, hitting the ground before it made it to the target. Spinning around, she was treated to the sight of her father, a disapproving look on his face.

"Shooting, why?" she asked, pointing her bow in the direction of the target. When she swung it out, Clint snatched it out of her hands and threw it behind him. Katniss' eyes widened, confounded. "Why did you just do that?

"I'm not talking about the bow, Katniss. I mean, what are you doing? You're not a drunk. You're not skittish; you're certainly one who can take any type of news with a grain of salt, so why are you acting the complete opposite of yourself? Ever since we got here, you haven't been the same," Clint probed.

"I…I—"

"Does this have to do with Pierce? If Natasha and I scared you with the whole prospect of him earlier, then I didn't mean to. We shouldn't be bringing this stuff up around you, you were the one who opted out in the first place and we shouldn't—"

"It's not that," Katniss finally spat out. "It's just…this op in California. I don't feel comfortable about it." She knew she had already said too much. She couldn't dare bring up her conversation with Pierce, even if it was just Clint. This was a secret, a secret that if she dared attempted to share with someone else; it would hurt a lot more than just her. She could feel her heart pounding harder in her chest, scared that he could see right through her.

Clint shrugged, as if there was no question about it. "Come with us, it's a basic op as far as I know and there's nothing truly dangerous about it. Stark's already told us that he intends on tagging along with us in order to help get a deeper dig on Insight, and I'll bet he could use some help. Or not, but you know what I mean. Come with us and then you won't have to be uncomfortable with it."

"Okay," Katniss said slowly, toying around with the idea on her tongue. "But you have to make me a promise."

"Shoot."

Katniss took a deep breath. "I want for you to train me." Clint gaped at her for a moment, staring at her and trying to figure out where she was coming from just by a look.

"I…you what?" he stammered back.

"I want for you and Natasha to train me. You know, hand-to-hand combat, weapons training, all of that. Starting as soon as we can, I want you guys to prepare me. I'm not always going to have a quiver of arrows on me and I want to be able to defend myself," she said, her shaky voice finding a little more strength as she kept going.

"Katniss, you don't need us to train you, you're more than capable of defending yourself without your arrows," Clint insisted, dispersing her fear with a slight wave of his hand. "You held your own against me when I was possessed, you don't need any training."

"That's different, things are different now. Everything has changed over the past two years and I need to know how to keep myself alive as long as possible. Will you do it, yes or no?"

Clint was silent for a moment, Katniss boring holes into his head as he rubbed his jaw. Finally, he let out a long sigh. "Fine, fine," he complied. "I'll train you. I can't guarantee that I'll be able to get Natasha on board, so if I can't, you have to promise me that this will stay a secret between us." He raised an eyebrow, and Katniss nodded. It was quiet for a moment before Clint started talking again.

"Bruce wanted to know if you were okay, after you ran out of the lab earlier." Katniss remained silent. Taking into account that she wasn't planning on acknowledging that, he kept going. "He has this theory; it's kind of funny, really, but he has this theory that you and Tony are both dealing with the same issues and it's why you make perfect housemates for the other; all of the changes in your lives, the drinking, the skittish behaviors and the antisocial tendencies. He thinks that the two of you are just now starting to deal with the repercussions of New York."

"And you still aren't?" Katniss snapped. "He's a scientist, not a medical doctor. I don't need a diagnosis on why Tony and I connect. He's my godfather. Connection established."

She watched as Clint took a few steps backwards, sitting down on the bench. "You have a really bad habit about making it painfully obvious as to who you're trying to avoid. It's even more obvious when you were involved with them; you won't even touch Rogers with a ten-foot pole, so it's pretty clear that something went down between you and Bruce." When he saw the puzzled look on her face, he smirked. "You know, Nat and I might have been in Manila for seven months, but it's not like we were under rocks."

Katniss sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Look, it's not like I hate Bruce. I don't. He and I are still good friends...it's just, things are different now. He’s seen me drunk one too many times, crying about Steve, I can’t really remember if I tried throwing myself at him or not…either way, we reached a point of awkwardness we couldn’t bounce back from. We don’t talk about it.” The last few months with Bruce being around had left a bitter taste in her mouth. Whatever disastrous thing they’d had going, trying to use the other as a therapist when drunk had ended faster than it could’ve began; between New York and Rogers, she carried around just as much baggage as Bruce and chose to deal with it in much more terrifying ways. They simply weren’t what the other needed, and the more they forced the other to fit the mold, the worse things got. She felt as though she'd lost her best friend once she couldn't look him in the eye any more, him unable to do the same. Shaking herself out of her own thought path, she tried to draw the conversation in a different direction. "Do you think he's right? You know, about the whole issues thing?"

"As your father, I'm inclined to agree with you, but this time I agree with him," Clint interrupted her from her thoughts. "I think that something is up with you and Tony. The two of you need a break from this...routine you two are in; parties, drinking, the rigorous activity for long periods of time. I don't think I'd necessarily say you're just dealing with New York, but I think something has changed with you. Ever since we got here, especially since last night, you've been acting funny. Like you're scared something else crazy is going to come in and turn your world on its head."

"So this is an intervention?" Katniss asked, raising an eyebrow.

Clint shook his head. "Not at all, just observation." Pulling himself off of the bench, he started for the door. "Get some sleep, you've got a good bit of packing and catch-up to play tomorrow." She gave him a small salute on his way out of the gym, watching his figure recede.

True to her nature, she hardly slept.


	5. california dreaming

****_ROMANOFF-BARTON, KATNISS DELIA  
SHIELD OPERATIVE #7213  
ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION_

**_: // MESSAGE:_ YOU ARE TO REPORT WITH AGENT(S) BARTON, ROMANOFF, AND CAPTAIN ROGERS TO CALIFORNIA TO NEUTRALIZE.THE THREAT BEHIND SEVERAL RECENT TERRORIST ATTACKS. ANY PUBLIC APPEARANCES MADE, YOU ARE TO ATTEND. INFORMING YOUR TEAM OF YOUR PERSONAL ASSIGNMENT WILL LEAD TO APPROPRIATE ACTION TAKEN AGAINST BARTON AND ROMANOFF. MISSION BRIEFING WILL BE ATTACHED. DELETE AS SOON AS FINISHED.**

**_ADDENDUM —_ I trust you will do what you see necessary in order to fulfill your duties. _  
\- Alexander Pierce, SHIELD Senior Official_**

* * *

"God, I forgot how miserable California is," Natasha drawled, pushing her sunglasses up on the bridge of her nose. Tony rolled his eyes, stepping up beside her and clapping one of his hands on her shoulders, to which she visibly tried to shroud away from.

"You could use the sunshine, Little Red," Tony disputed. "Maybe the sun will warm your ice heart a little."

"Maybe it'll thaw out your brain and it'll start working." Katniss couldn't help but to snicker at the banter between her mother and godfather. If there was any dynamic that she loved to just watch ideas and words ping-pong off of each other, it was definitely Natasha and Tony's. The two of them could keep up with each other with hardly any trouble at all, and the angle they always chose to play was the one that would make the other run back in defeat, tails between their legs.

Dismissing Natasha's remark and desires to get him away from her, he extended his arm around Natasha's shoulders and let out a content sigh. "I think this is the perfect opportunity for a little Avenger-styled family vacation," he pointed out.

"We're here on a mission," Clint interrupted dryly, stepping up behind Tony and Natasha and peeling Tony's arm off of her. "You wanted to tag along to get a deeper look into Insight, and we agreed. We didn't agree on trips to Disneyland every weekend."

Straightening up and adjusting the sunglasses over his own eyes, Tony puffed out his chest. "Hey, I didn't just come for you guys. Pepper wanted me out of the Tower, and frankly, out of New York. Happy wanted a new change of scenery too, you know," he muttered.

The entire plane ride across the country had been a borderline anxiety attack wrapped up in a neat little bow for Katniss, and it wasn't the height getting to her. From Pierce's first order of instruction—that terrified her mainly due to the fact that he'd managed to get in touch with her without giving him an ounce of information, because really, that was just all the more proof he was everywhere—to flipping through the debrief about supposedly related bombings by a terrorist unaffiliated to any known groups that Natasha and Clint were being sent in to investigate (conveniently the exact kind of thing Pierce wanted her to start diffusing publicly, since this terrorist enjoyed televising their executions) her hands had yet to stop shaking. Mission briefings were never as bad as debriefs, but even she knew that a twenty-something page briefing wasn't much of a good sign. Steve had been shooting her looks the whole ride, to which she'd had to return with the nastiest glare she could conjure up.

She was able to pull off a rigorous session in the gym the night before as her excuse, because it was partially true. She and Clint had been down in the gym, late at night when they knew Natasha was either preoccupied or asleep to get in training time. It had turned out that Natasha didn't want to train her for undisclosed reasons; she'd simply lodged her steak knife into Tony's dinner table and stalked off when the question had been proposed at dinner and had said no more on the subject. So, it came to the agreement that Katniss and Clint would do all of their training together whenever Natasha had her head turned or when she wasn't around, the both of them not to breathe so much as a syllable about it as long as they valued their lives to some degree.

Clint trained like it was boot camp. He wasn't going easy on her just because she was his daughter; in fact, she was pretty sure that was what pushed him to make him drive her harder. Because she didn't want any extra help with the bow, it was all hand-to-hand combat that he had been working on with her. Hours and hours of sparring down in the gym, and each time, Clint would take her down with ease. "Come on, Kat," he'd said one night, wiping the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand. "You took me out with ease when I was possessed by a  _god,_  you can't even pin me down when I'm going easy on you?"

"That's you going easy?" Clint shot her a look, and she'd rolled her eyes. "That fight was over two years ago, before I went through physical therapy after a stab wound to the back. Adrenaline high, fabulous shape, combined with my genetics; you were easy to beat then." Holding out her hands far apart from each other, palms up, she made gestures to each one as she raised an eyebrow as if to mock him. "That was then, this is now."

"You trained fine after New York," he'd pointed out.

" _Archery_  training," she corrected. "Which, need I refresh your memory, does not involve anyone being slammed to the ground and tapping out after three seconds in a dreadfully uncomfortable chokehold."

"Are your legs bothering you? Natasha said you had a moment when the two of you sparred the other day," was his explanation when she gave him a puzzled look. "Is everything okay?" Leave it to Natasha to bring up moments that she would have rather buried in the dirt. It wasn't like it was a lie though; her legs had been locking up on occasion, hurting her more than usual whenever she overworked herself, and part of her mind had done its best to convince her it was all because the weather was turning off cooler. Whenever the temperature dropped, she felt like the Tin-Man in need of oiling. She'd pasted a fake smile on her face, shook her head and fixed her ponytail as Clint got back into position for their next round.

Katniss had hardly gotten any sleep either; when she wasn't training, she was pacing her room and dwelling on everything that Pierce had threatened her with. It was taunting her, the more she tried to shut herself up about it was usually when it tended to linger inside her mind. It didn't help that she was forced to keep this quiet and that so much seemed to be riding on it. Loki had been one kind of threat, but Pierce was an entirely new beast; being over SHIELD meant he was everywhere and that she was never truly alone, or safe for that matter.

"And speaking of my man, Happy!" Tony exclaimed, startling Katniss and shaking her out of her thoughts about Pierce's looming presence everywhere she went. The car waiting off to the side must have been theirs, seeing as how Tony strolled up with both arms held over his head. Taking the initiative to be the next one to follow him, Katniss plastered her ' _everything-is-fine-and-nothing's-out-of-the-ordinary'_  smile onto her lips. She opened up the side door of the car, interrupting the avid chatter between Tony and his driver.

"Hey, Happy," she said, sounding a lot calmer and content than she'd expected to.

Happy looked up at her through the rearview mirror, smiling. "Hey kiddo, good to see ya!" It had been quite some time since she'd really seen Happy; there had hardly been anywhere she felt the need to go in quite some time, and therefore all of Happy's services had been rendered obsolete to her. Even though he lived in the Tower with her, she hardly saw reason to leave her own floor unless she was going to the gym, and her path never did seem to cross with his. It was refreshing, seeing him after what felt like an eternity. Something about seeing Happy gave her a sense of familiarity in her life amidst all the craziness.

"Good to see you too," she replied, sliding across the row of seats to the far end. Steve was the next to clamber into the car, Natasha and Clint right behind him. There was an empty space in between her and Steve, Natasha and Clint choosing to crawl into the very back row, yet that empty space wasn't enough to separate them. She turned to look out the window as Happy's foot found the gas, the car squealing to life and barreling off down the street.

California wasn't New York City, which Katniss was grateful for. Ghosts followed her around in New York; it was like every time she turned a corner, there was something else that popped out from the past and she couldn't get it to stop following her. Grand Central Terminal and the road passing by it were avoided at all costs, because every time she saw it, the Chitauri's screeches would echo out in her head. Passing by little cafes made her think of the times when she wasn't constantly at Steve's throat, and it left a bitter taste and the need to leave. Everywhere she went was staring some memory in the face, and it was partially reason as to why she never found a need to leave the Tower.

She felt like the ultimate tourist, nose pressed against the car window as she stared out at the city passing by. The buildings were just as big and flashy as they were in New York, but there was something different about them. There was no baggage attached to the street signs and the locations, it was all a new slate. Desert and shrubs instead of fake trees and subways, a welcome change. Katniss felt the smile creeping over her face, not bothering to fight it back. It was a nice feeling, knowing that there was a certain freedom that came with being in a town without the past following her around.

Katniss had never been to Tony's property in California, but from what he'd said about it, it sounded a little more inviting than Avengers Tower according to her tastes. It overlooked the ocean, didn't have any neighbors, and was an actual house. The last memories that Katniss had of a real house was all the way back in Twelve, and even then, it had taken on more of the description of a cabin. Tony's voice shook her out of her thoughts, clapping loudly and causing her to jump slightly. "Welcome to casa de Stark," he announced loudly.

Turning around in his seat, he pushed his sunglasses down, eyes twinkling. "You remember this place, right, Romanoff?"

Natasha gave him a look. "How could I ever forget? It was the beginning of the never-ending job of saving your sorry ass from trouble time and time again," she deadpanned, before shooting him an overly cheerful grin.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Just because you don't enjoy my house doesn't mean baby bird won't." His eyes then moved to Katniss, smiling. "Don't listen to your mother; time has not helped her attitude improvement whatsoever. You're going to love California."

The car began to slow, winding down the driveway that led up to the house. It was quite an architectural statement; nothing short of Tony's wishes of extravagance and style. Katniss was still staring out the window, in just as much awe as she had been when they were driving through downtown. "You have tennis courts?" she found herself asking as they passed by, circling around the entrance.

"It's not like he actually plays tennis, Katniss," Natasha interrupted.

Clint laughed. "Please, when has Stark ever showed any signs of athletic ability?"

Sitting up to shoot them a glare through the rearview mirror, Tony pouted. "You two are perfect for each other you know; evil, spiteful, hurtful—"

"Is that all, Stark?"

"I was only just getting started," Tony fired back as the car rolled to a stop. Quick to climb out, Katniss slammed her car door shut the minute her feet hit the pavement, eyes glued to the mansion in front of her. The smell of saltwater hit her first, a breeze blowing her hair back. Happy stepped out of the car, walking past her to help get their bags.

Clapping a hand on her shoulder, he smiled. "Welcome home, Katniss."

* * *

"Katniss. Katniss. Katniss, wake  _up_." Someone was violently shaking her side, whispering frantically in her ear. Rolling over, Katniss rubbed at her eyes before opening them, squinting in order to adjust to the darkness and the glare of the alarm clock on the night table.

"Wha…what's wrong?" she mumbled, still half-asleep as she sat up, sliding against the pillows.

Natasha was standing over her, dressed head to toe in her tactical gear. "Come on," she said, her voice serious. "You need to get up and get dressed; the Quinjet's going to be here any minute to pick us up."

"Quinjet?" Katniss asked, bleary eyes turning to look over at the alarm clock. "It's almost one in the morning, why is a Quinjet coming for us?"

"I'll explain once you're up and moving, now get dressed," Natasha growled, throwing back the covers. Katniss kicked one leg over the side of the bed, the other one following a few seconds later as she hopped down off of the bed. She felt a pair of hands shove her in the direction of the closet, feet moving faster underneath her unwillingly.

Katniss was confused as her mother shoved something in her hands before pushing her inside the walk-in closet and closing the door roughly. Her hands felt around on the wall for a light switch, finding it blindly and switching it on. The light was painfully bright, and as she looked down, she realized that she was staring at a carbon-copy of Natasha's tactical uniform. Puzzled as to why she would need this—and more importantly, why she was even awake—she stripped out of her pajamas and slipped into the uniform, zipping it up tiredly. Slouched over, she rummaged around for her boots, sliding them on slowly and lazily. She turned to face the full-length mirror, using the spare hair tie that she kept on her wrist to tie her hair up into a ponytail. Pulling it tighter on her head, she gave one quick look at herself. She looked exactly how she felt—exhausted.

No sooner had she stepped out of the closet, Natasha grabbed her wrist and jerked her off down the hall. "What the hell?" Katniss hissed.

"We have to go, come on," Natasha muttered underneath her breath. "And don't say a word until we're outside."

They moved throughout the house quickly, Natasha dragging Katniss behind her. At night, everything seemed a lot bigger; the shadows and outlines of furniture did hardly any good as she kept bumping into things, Natasha shooting her glares every time. Once they'd made it through the garage and out the side door, Natasha started talking. "Mission alert came in about twenty minutes ago; me, Rogers, and for some odd reason, you," she explained, walking at a brisk pace and leaving Katniss running to keep up.

"Mission alert?" Katniss asked, yawning. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere near the Indian Ocean, I didn't ask for the details," Natasha said. Katniss' eyes nearly bugged out of her head as she reached out, grabbing Natasha's arm and forcing her to spin around so they were face to face. Even there in the moonlight, Katniss could see the annoyance painted over her mother's face.

"The Indian Ocean?" she repeated, bewildered. "It's one in the morning, why are we needed at one in the morning over the Indian Ocean? This is…this is insane."

"I don't make the calls," Natasha said stiffly. "If I did, you would not be tagging along. Fury wants you on this mission though, I'm not entirely sure why though, but I'm not about to fight him on this one. You pick and choose your battles."

As they got closer to the landing pad, Katniss could see the outline of someone standing there. "You two ready?" the voice called out, and it clicked in her head that it was Steve. Even in the darkness, she could see the gleam of a silver star on his chest, rolling her eyes. His tactical uniform still paying homage to that ridiculous costume of his, she could tell that he still ran true to form. Natasha slowed her pace, Steve now only several feet away. "Natasha…" His voice was a scolding tone, and Katniss figured that he was referencing to her being there.

"Rogers," she responded, her tone just as stiff.

Steve looked over at Katniss, eyes roaming over her outfit. "How did you get put on this?" he asked.

Katniss shrugged. "Believe me, wasn’t my top pick of how to spend my time."

He turned to face Natasha, one of his eyebrows raised in confusion. "Fury called her in on this one?"

Natasha shrugged. "I guess, couldn't have come from anyone else. Who else is dumb enough to assign her something that Clint will want to kill them for doing?" Katniss' mind had already started to take off, her heart racing as she thought back to everything Pierce was already making her do. Surely putting this past him was out of the question; for all she knew, Pierce had put her on the list to give Fury when he assigned the mission. She didn't realize how panicked she must have looked, because Natasha's voice was shaking her out of her thoughts. "You okay?" she asked.

"Never better," Katniss mumbled. Out of nowhere, the all-too-familiar sound of a Quinjet's engine was overhead, blinding lights shining down on them as it started to lower towards the landing pad. Natasha grabbed Katniss' wrist, forcing her to step back. The wind began to pick up as the Quinjet landed the cargo ramp lowering.

"Agent Romanoff, Captain Rogers," a voice called out from inside the Quinjet. Natasha's grip on Katniss' grip remained as she stalked across the lawn and onto the cargo ramp, Steve following behind. Katniss kept her mouth shut and her head inclined towards the ground, trying to draw attention away from herself. That plan didn't work entirely too well.

"Who's this?" The same voice asked, Katniss finally putting the sound to a face as his eyes locked dead on her.

"Wrong question," Steve piped up from behind, chuckling bitterly.

Natasha shot the man a glare, tilting her head in Katniss' direction. "Surely you got Fury's roster."

The man's eyes lit up, arms folding over his chest. "So this is Romanoff-Barton," he mused, the smirk wiping off of his face the minute he caught sight of Natasha shooting him daggers.

"Rumlow, this is my daughter, Katniss. Consultant, shouldn't-be-on-this-mission, Barton will probably be all over your ass once he wakes up and realizes we're gone." She then turned to face Katniss, gesturing out towards Rumlow. "This is Brock Rumlow; STRIKE field agent and certified son of a bitch. If he gives you trouble, you give him hell."

"Oh relax, Romanoff," Rumlow called over his shoulder as Natasha stormed off into the Quinjet, leaving Katniss alone in front of him. "I'm not going to terrorize your daughter. Living with Stark for two years is punishment enough, I'd think." Rumlow then moved his gaze over to Katniss, a crooked smile on his face. "Welcome aboard," he said.

"Uh, thanks," Katniss said.

All around her, people were calling out commands and going in every different direction possible and it left Katniss in a near stranded position. She was frozen there in her tracks, unable to go along with the flow. The cargo ramp began to close behind her, Quinjet slowly starting to lift off of the landing pad. "We are in motion," she heard someone—most likely Natasha—say as they began to gain altitude fairly quickly.

"Katniss," Steve walked past her, giving her a look as he stopped. "You know you don't have to stand there the whole flight, you can come and sit back here with us. Indian Ocean's a good while away," he pointed out.

"Oh, um, yeah, okay," she stammered out, following along behind Steve.

It was interesting, getting to see how Steve and Natasha operated whenever they went on missions. The last time she'd seen them in action was New York, and even then that hadn't been the typical way to go about things. Natasha was a complete natural at what she did; Katniss knew it was because her life had been this for as long as she could remember, and it was fascinating watching her work. Steve did best in group environments mainly because he was born to lead, and just as he had naturally taken charge back in New York, it was the same here. They all followed his orders, asking him the important questions and going by what he said. She couldn't help but to smile bitterly, knowing that this was what he'd been up to whenever he jetted off to DC.

The ride over the Pacific Ocean did nothing but lull her back into another cat nap. Contrary to what she'd thought, settling in was nothing short of relaxing. The minute she'd finished settling all her stuff out in her room—Pepper's usual back when they stayed permanently in California—she and Clint had gone out to the tennis courts and put them to some actual use, the first time since they'd been installed most likely. Clint was fairly good with a tennis racquet, and the more rounds they played, the better Katniss got. Then Tony had made them sit down and eat dinner for entirely way too long—once he had pulled out a board game, everyone called it a night. What with being somewhat jetlagged and worn out, Katniss was asleep before she'd hit the pillow. Of course, that hadn't lasted too long; what with her nightmares of Pierce and Natasha waking her up in the middle of the night, getting a sound sleep was proving to be impossible. Apparently the scenery change wasn’t that much of a help after all.

"Alright, team, listen up," came Steve's voice. Raising her head slightly, she could see everyone standing around a monitor on the opposite end of the Quinjet. She figured this was her cue to get up and join the party, pulling herself out of her seat and ambling over to where everyone was at. Katniss squeezed in next to Natasha, arms folding over her chest as Rumlow began talking.

"The target is a mobile satellite launch platform, The Lemurian Star. It was sending up their last payload when pirates took them, ninety-three minutes ago," he started, pointing to the monitor.

"Any demands?" Steve asked.

"A billion and a half."

"Why so steep?"

"Because it's SHIELD's."

"So it's not off-course, it's trespass."

Natasha snorted. "I'm sure they have good reason."

"How many pirates are we talking?" Steve continued, ignoring Natasha's comment and the smirk on her face.

"Twenty-five, top mercs, led by this guy. Georges Batroc." A picture of Batroc appeared on the monitor as Rumlow carried on. "Ex-TGSE, Action Division. He's at the top of Interpol's 'red notice'. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions. This guy's got a rep for maximum casualties."

Katniss glanced around at the group of agents, before speaking up. "Wait, is this our guy?" she asked, thinking back to the mission briefing as her eyes locked on Natasha. She was puzzled, returning the expression.

" _What_  guy?" Natasha reiterated.

"The one that's responsible for all the bom—" It registered in her head that she had said way too much, eyes wide as she fell silent almost instantly. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest, she was terrified that Natasha could hear it beating. She'd said too much, she'd said way too much and now Pierce was going to find out, Pierce was going ship the whole goddamn team off in a box to Antarctica—

"Hostages?" Steve's voice cut through her internal monologue cleanly, his voice calm.

"Mostly techs," Rumlow replied. "One officer, Jasper Sitwell." Rumlow pulled up a picture of Sitwell for emphasis, Katniss recalling her very vague and few memories of Agent Sitwell. He had never said much to her, had hardly even noticed her existence, but judging by the looks on Steve and Natasha's faces, he wasn't that memorable anyways. "He's in the galley," Rumlow added.

"What's Sitwell doing on a launch ship?" Steve asked, Natasha chuckling in response. "Alright, I'm gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Nat, you'll kill the engines and wait for instructions; Katniss, with her. Rumlow, you sweep above, find the hostages, get them to life pods. Get 'em out. Let's go."

"You heard the Captain, gear up!"

Natasha made the first movement, grabbing Katniss by the shoulder and pushing her backwards away from the group. "What the hell are you talking about?" she hissed, bending down to retrieve their parachutes from underneath one of the seats.

"I…I don't know—"

"No, you  _don't_  know." Shoving a parachute pack in Katniss' arms, her eyes were dangerous as she lowered her voice. "You follow me; you don't ask questions, you do as I say. Got it?" Katniss nodded, watching Natasha as she bent down once again. "We should be fine if you've got this on you."

Pulling out an arrow quiver and a bow, she held them out in Katniss' direction. "Shoot straight. We jump in ten."

Jumping out of a moving Quinjet again wasn't necessarily something that Katniss had very high up on her to-do list, but it quickly moved to the top of her list when she saw Steve dive off the cargo ramp with nothing but his shield to accompany him. The wind rushing past her and flooding her ears reminded her of the time they'd made her jump out of the Quinjet in Germany, bringing on a rush of déjà vu. Fortunately, the parachute provided a smoother ride down to the deck of the ship where Steve was waiting on the rest of them, unconscious bodies littered all over the deck. The minute her feet hit the deck, Katniss was quick to strip herself of the parachute. Steve smirked. "Not a fan?" he asked.

"Baby bird isn’t too big on flying."

"Katniss, with me!" Natasha said, waiting by one of the railings. Katniss rerouted herself, watching as Natasha pulled herself over the railing and leaped down to one of the lower decks. It had been awhile since she was required to be so agile, but Katniss knew that if there was anyone who wasn't going to wait around on her, it was without a doubt Natasha. Clutching on tightly to her bow, Katniss swung one leg over and pushed herself up, clearing over the railing and plummeting straight down beside Natasha.

"Plan?" Katniss asked as the two of them began to stride across the lower deck, fiddling with the bow and arrow in her hand.

"Secure the engine room, lock it, then we'll go from there. Take out whoever we need to in order to stay alive," she explained, pulling out her gun. "Stay there."

Katniss pressed herself against one of the pipes, quietly observing as Natasha rounded the corner. She had a sinister grin on her face, one hand leaning up against a wall and the other hanging by her side with her fingers wrapped tightly around the gun. "Hey sailor," she purred, before lifting her hand and slamming the butt of her gun into his forehead.

"Come on!" she yelled, motioning for Katniss to follow her. Natasha swung down below deck, Katniss mirroring her actions from the opposite side of the floor. Gunfire followed, most likely from the pirates, and Katniss was quick to draw her bow and shoot. Her arrow flew straight through one of the gaps in the metal grates serving as protection, directly between the eyes of one of the pirates. Feet landing on the ground with a loud clang, she drew another arrow and fired through the floor at another pirate below them before he even had time to lift his gun.

"Nice work," Natasha commented.

"Thanks."

They made their way above the engine room, Natasha holding out a hand to stop Katniss. "No, I need your eyes above me. If he gets too close for comfort, take him out," she instructed, leaping down off the platform. Katniss knelt down, pulling an arrow from her quiver and stringing it, ready to fire. "Hang on!" Natasha yelled a few seconds later, most likely into her comm. Katniss watched on silently as the pirate did his best to defend himself against her mother, but to no avail. Natasha was always two steps ahead, and within moments, he was on the ground.

"Engine room secure," she breathed out into her radio.

Katniss watched as the pirate slowly started to stand back up, more than likely wanting to grab Natasha off guard. Repositioning her bow, she locked in on the back of his head and let her arrow fly. He fell down right as Natasha turned around, pole in her hand to defend herself. Katniss jumped down, walking out of the darkness to meet back up with her mother. "You said to take him out if he got too close for comfort," she repeated.

Natasha just smirked, the corners of her lips turning upwards as she dropped the pole with a loud clang. Putting her hands on her hips, Katniss looked around. "Engine room's secure, what now?" Natasha, on the other hand, was already strolling off around the corner.

"Hey," Katniss whined, jogging to catch up with her. "Are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"No," Natasha replied as she pushed open a door. "I need you to stand guard."

Katniss snorted. "Yeah, no thanks."

Natasha's face twisted. "Fine. You can come in, and while I finish up my mission, you can inform me of yours." Reaching out and pushing a dumbfounded Katniss in the room first, she was right on her heels and closed the door behind her.

She stood there, unable to push any words past her lips as Natasha sauntered around the room to one of the abandoned computers. "So," she finally said, eyes on her work. "You want to explain to me how you know about those bombings?" Katniss was silent, still rendered speechless. Natasha lifted her head, giving her a look. "And don't tell me that you went through Clint's things and read through the mission briefing; he might be an idiot but he's not dumb."

"I can't tell you," Katniss finally muttered out. "I said way too much back there on the Quinjet."

"Yeah, no kidding. Did you forget that you can't trust anyone, even if they do work for SHIELD? I wasn't kidding when I said Rumlow's a snake. He's a good guy, but every good guy I know has a track record. You can't just go blurting out stuff, especially stuff that no one aside from me, Clint, and Steve were let in on."

Glancing down at her hands, Katniss shrugged. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. Natasha's head shot up, one of her eyebrows lifted in curiosity.

"Are you?" There was a silence hanging over the both of them, with the exception of Natasha typing away. "Listen to me," she finally growled. "There are very few people you can trust, and they limit to me, Clint, Steve, and Tony. So whatever Fury's got you doing, you can tell me. We're not going to sell you out; we just need you to be honest with us."

Katniss pondered that for a moment. The way Natasha had mentioned Fury’s name planted a seed of an idea inside Katniss' head.  _They think Fury’s gone back to using me, like nothing’s changed since New York. Pierce only said I had to keep my instructions quiet, he didn’t say I couldn’t throw them off my scent by tossing Fury their way._ "It's nothing, really," she insisted. "Fury told me that he wanted more than one person on the terrorist case."

"There were already three of us, Katniss."

"Yeah, well, he wanted four," Katniss snapped, rubbing the back of her neck absentmindedly as she continued to weave her lie. "I told Fury I was bored, wanted to consult on more cases. This was what he started me on."

"Does this have anything to do with Steve?" Natasha interjected coolly. "I know how you felt about him going off to DC; Pepper told me that you’ve been holing up in your room at the Tower for the last few months and would hardly leave it for anything, and now you’re up and running across the country with us. Are you trying to start fixing whatever mess you two made?”

"I have no idea where you got that idea—"

"It's not that far-fetched—"

"—everything has to do with Steve nowadays—"

"—don't get so defensive—"

"—don't bring up stupid ass theories—"

Their argument was cut short as the sound of the wall collapsing in, startling Katniss. Sheetrock and dust went soaring through the air, the source of the demolisher lying on the ground with a red-white-and-blue shield strapped to its back. He climbed off of the other man, likely Batroc, dusting off his suit. Natasha coughed nonchalantly, Steve's eyes flying up to where she was. The anger was colored all over his face as he stared at the pair, eyes flitting back and forth between them. Natasha was the first to speak.

"Well, this is awkward."


	6. civil war interrupted

Clint was waiting for them with breakfast ready.

For god's sake, Katniss didn't even know that Clint knew how to fix breakfast without burning down the whole mansion, but she supposed that some people weren't Tony and that there was plenty about Clint she didn't know. It was a two way street, especially with him. She didn't know much about him, and he didn't really know a lot about her either. She passed by him, dragging her feet and pulling her hair out of its tie, not even noticing that he was sitting at the table with arms folded. It wasn't until she heard the loud sound of him clearing his throat, and Steve's uncomfortable cough that she stopped in her tracks, spinning around slowly.

"Welcome home," he said dryly, his lips in a thin line. Out of the corner of her eye, Katniss caught sight of Natasha stiffening, her face frozen in her nonchalant expression. No one dared to make a sound, all of them either looking at someone or avoiding all eye contact. That was, until there came a loud bang from somewhere in the kitchen.

"Shit!"

Throwing his head back in defeat, Clint groaned loudly. "Oh for fuck's sake, Tony!"

"It wasn't my fault, god, bird-man!" A few moments later, Tony appeared, a rather sheepish smile spreading over his lips once he caught sight of Natasha, Steve and Katniss. "Nice for you all to return to us, in one piece I take it," he drawled, looking them up and down.

"How did you even—"

"Romanoff, when you land a Quinjet on my landing pad, I know about it. They're not exactly built to resemble that of a church mouse," Tony interrupted Natasha, resting one of his hands on his hips. "And besides, my bed time is typically no earlier than three, I was watching from my window as you went on your magic carpet ride far, far away."

Katniss' eyes moved off of the place on the wall she'd been staring at, finding Clint's own burning holes in her. She reached up, scratching behind her ear awkwardly in order to put idle hands to use. "What I want to know," he said coolly, resting his hands palms down on the table. "Is why  _she_  was with them."

"The alert came in, she was on the list," Natasha responded casually.

Clint's retort came hurtling back almost instantly. "But why?" Natasha didn't verbally answer, just shrugged one of her shoulders and flicked her gaze over at Katniss.

She felt the blood rush out of her face.  _Of course_ , if Natasha had started getting suspicious, then there was no doubt that Clint had too. The two of them operated like a unit, an extension of the other. Whatever one was thinking, the other was digging around and trying to find more on it. Every eye in the room was locked on Katniss, and she did her best not to visibly squirm underneath all of their pressure. "What?" she finally found herself snapping. "Do we have to know the answer to every single question? Why does the sun come up every morning?"

Tony raised his hands up in surrender, his eyes wide. "Whoa there, baby bird, no need to chew us up and spit us out. All we did was ask you a question."

"Yeah, a stupid one," she muttered under her breath.

One of Natasha's eyebrows raised ever so slightly, her head turning to face Katniss. "No, not a stupid one," she countered stiffly. "It’s a legitimate question that I still want to know the answer to, just as much as Clint and everyone else does." She then glanced back over at Clint. "As soon as I get started on debrief, I'm asking Fury what the hell he's smoking, thinking he can send her into the _field_ when she's a consultant."

Katniss stiffened. Somehow, she'd assumed that by putting all the blame on Fury, her problems with Alexander Pierce pulling her puppet strings along would have magically dissipated. She'd forgotten that lies always had a funny way of coming back to bite someone in the ass. "There's no damn reason to go to Fury about it," she insisted. "I told you, I wanted more work, excuse me for not realizing Fury would actually listen to me for once. Either way, it was my choice, end of discussion."

"That is  _not—"_

"What, my call?" she fired back in Clint's direction. "I can make whatever call involving me, you were the very one who said I was independent enough to call my own shots all those years ago, remember? Well, this is it. I get tired of twiddling my thumbs in the Tower, shooting at sims day in and day out. I want to do something, like you guys, make a difference out there.”

Clint tensed up. "Contrary to your cozy little bubble inside Stark—

"—Avengers—"

"—Tower," Clint growled, ignoring Tony's attempt at correcting him. "Things at SHIELD are different than they were two years ago. You don't know what you're signing yourself up for."

Katniss threw her hands up in defeat, groaning. "This is supposed to be breakfast, not an intervention." She turned sharply on her heel, storming through the pristine hallways of Tony's mansion. Looking down, she could see that her hands were still trembling, and she knew it wasn't from the Quinjet ride either. Already she was trapped inside her own web of lies, it quickly unraveling around her. She couldn't keep up with the façade; there was always an addendum to it because Natasha and Clint and everyone else were thorough. They wanted answers to questions she hadn't even thought about, and she was tripping herself up every time they got the slightest bit closer.

It was very simple, very clear in Katniss' head. Pierce was going to punish her because she didn't know how to keep her calm, and she was going to get everyone around her hurt or possibly killed. Slamming the door to the guest room shut, she twisted the lock angrily and let out a frustrated scream.

She didn't go to breakfast.

* * *

Outside in a yard that Tony had tucked far away on the opposite end of the mansion, Katniss reached up and wiped her forehead free of sweat with her forearm. She'd been firing at the same target for hours, endless arrows sticking out of various places on a dummy she'd dragged from the gym and set up. Her own personal form of therapy was going in and shooting relentlessly, and it typically resulted in an unfit target by the time she was done, with endless arrowhead-sized holes littered over every square inch.

It had been a frustrating day and it wasn't even anywhere close to its end. Katniss had no idea how in the hell she was going to make it through the rest of this mission, because it was only day one and she wanted nothing more than to go back home and hole up on the thirteenth floor of the Tower. She had already kept to the guest room in an attempt to avoid her parents, Steve, and Tony, because carrying on conversations with them wasn't very high on her to do list. The rundown played through smoothly and vividly in her head: start talking, they try to move the conversation to being on the roster, the whole conversation derails. She knew that she couldn't keep lying to everyone, but she couldn't just start telling the truth. Both of those options cost her her own skin, so she found it easier to just avoid altogether.

Katniss heard the glass doors slide apart, glancing over her shoulder to see who it was. Strolling out was none other than Steven Rogers, probably the last person on the face of the planet that she could have ever wanted to see. She would have taken Rumlow over him at this point. Scowling, she fidgeted with the end of the arrow as she placed it against the bowstring. "Please tell me you're not here to berate me like everyone else, because really, I'm not in the mood." Katniss lifted her bow, biting her lip as she aimed and let the arrow fly.

Twisting around, she was surprised to see a look of nonchalance on Steve's face. She would have assumed that his expression would have been warped into a grimace or one of his signature glares, but instead, he was expressionless. "I'm not here to berate you, you don't have to tear my head off," he said. "I just wanted to talk."

"Yeah?" Katniss uttered out, grinding her teeth together as she started to line up her next arrow with the target. "Don't really know if I'm in the mood for that either."

"Would you put down the bow and look at me?" he said, his voice strangled. Lowering her bow slowly, she turned on her heel so she was facing them. "Look, I know Natasha and Clint are trying to play twenty questions with you—"

"—and what are you doing, exactly? Seems to me you're about to launch into the exact same thing," she snapped. "I'm not supposed to be interfering, I should stick with being a consultant, going on that mission last night was dangerous and stupid, Fury's going to get his balls blown off; I get the gist of it all, Steve. I wish you guys would just stop worrying so much about me."

Katniss could feel Steve's eyes burning into her as she swiveled back towards her target, raising the arrow to keep firing. Maybe if she ignored him, he would go away. Unfortunately, that was a tall order, and Steve wasn't one to meet the expectations she had. "You want us to stop worrying about you?"

"God, here we go," she groaned, talking on top of him. Steve was bewildered at this point.

"Katniss, there’s a reason we worry about you, and it’s because everyone sees it but you! You're fidgety all the time, the bags on your eyes are enough proof that you're not getting any sleep, and you're being asked to come on missions that you're not trained for whatsoever? How couldn’t we worry? You walk around like you're in a perpetual state of having seen a ghost; we're not just going to ignore that. We’re a team, we look out for each other."

Throwing her bow down on the ground in exasperation, she rounded on Steve. "Oh yeah? Then why aren't you guys worrying about Tony? Tony hasn't slept in  _months_ , his alcoholism is at an all-time high, and yet I haven't seen any of you expressing the slightest bit of concern in his mental state or whether or not he's okay," she spat venomously. “Who’s looking out for Tony?”

"Do you even hear yourself?"

"Plain as day, Rogers!"

"You don’t sound like yourself, Katniss, and that doesn’t stick out to you?"

"How would you know? You don't _know_ anything! You were the one who traipsed off to fucking DC for over a year and a half and never said another word; you have no idea when it comes to knowing anything about me or what I've become!" Katniss all but screamed.

"You don't think I don't know you?" Steve grilled. "Because believe me, I know you, Katniss. I know you always have to double knot your shoelaces and sleep with the blinds half-drawn, I know you prefer hot chocolate to tea, I know that the only reason you let Pepper dye your hair is because you like the feel of it, hell, I even know your goddamn Social Security number. What I know? I know that whenever you're lining up a precise shot, your upper lip twitches before you shoot it, I know that whenever you're in hand to hand combat your first move is always a right hook to the jaw, I know that you do most things better under pressure and you aren’t thinking it through, so don't say that  _I_  don't know you!"

Katniss felt as though she was about to combust in pure anger and frustration that Steve had the audacity to stand in front of her and say something like that. Gritting her teeth together so hard that it could have shattered them like glass, her eyes narrowed into slits. "You think you know me?" she threatened.

"No, I don’t think, I _do!_ "

Katniss wasn't sure where the rush of adrenaline came from, but the next thing she knew she was rearing her fist back and bringing it up to connect with his jaw line. Steve's super soldier instincts snapped in place, his hand flying up and catching her hand mid-punch. "It’s always a right hook to the jaw," he noted, growling. She took the window of vulnerability as an opportunity and brought her leg up, kneeing him in the chest to push him off of her. He stumbled backward, Katniss moving in as she continued swinging. Steve was ducking from each hit, trying to catch her rogue fists. "Katniss, I'm not gonna fight you."

"If you know me so well, you'd know the moves to beat me!" she screeched, still swinging blindly. She was furious as she swiped at him, him dodging every move she made. "Fight back!" She jumped on him, her legs looping around his torso. With the tight grip on his arm, she yanked him downwards and flipped right over him in a neat roll. A low grunt escaped him as his back hit the ground roughly, Katniss digging her fingernails into the tender flesh of his forearm. The less he fought back, the angrier she got. Steve could fight just fine, she knew it. If anything, he was something like an equal partner when it came to sparring, more so than Clint or Natasha, and he was able to keep up and one-up her in a fight. She didn't know why he wasn't putting forth the effort in subduing her.

"Come on," she hissed as she pinned him down, raising one of her hands to bring it right across his cheek with a loud crack. "Come on!" Her eyes were locked dead on Steve's; she could imagine that her own were feral and wild, but his were still in that state of nonchalance, like this was nothing. It let the snap pass right underneath her radar, taken aback as he grabbed one of her balled up fists and used it to throw her off of him.

A small squeal escaping her, Katniss found herself on the ground underneath Steve. One of his legs on either side of her, he restrained both of her arms down on their respective side and leant down so their faces were only several inches apart. "I'm  _not_  fighting you," he hissed. A strangled sort of noise pushing its way through her throat, Katniss brought her head up with a jerk, knocking into his as hard as she could possibly manage. He moaned, relieving some of the grip he had on her and allowed her to push him off her.

Getting back up on her feet, she closed in on him and swung her fist down in an attempt to punch him in the face, what with the distinct height difference between the two of them. Her fist collided with his face, but he didn't give her time to draw it back and strike again. Instead, his hand tightened around her wrist, standing up and clutching onto her other wrist. His face was twisted into a snarl as he stormed backwards, dragging her with him and her feet stumbling over each other. Her back collided with the tree, both of her hands pinned directly over her head. She had definitely gotten him angry, judging by the look on his face, but there was still that eerie calmness in his eyes.

She thrashed against his grip, growling and screaming as she tried to break loose. Katniss felt like an animal, and Steve had captured her. He was stronger than her, and he wasn't letting her budge under any means. Gnashing her teeth together, she glared up at him with a look laced with daggers.

"He— _whoa_!"

"What the fuck?"

Just like that, the fight was over. Katniss found her wrists being released from their captivity and her arms involuntarily falling to her sides. Steve stepped away from the tree as Clint and Tony all but ran out to where they were. "What the hell were you thinking, Rogers?" Clint barked, finger pointed accusingly in Steve's direction.

"Ask your daughter that," Steve said coolly. It was like a switched had flicked off in Katniss' mind, her eyes slits as she stomped off of the above ground tree roots and in Steve's direction. Tony, who was in mid-stroll over to where the group was, darted out and intercepted Katniss before she'd made it halfway. His eyes wide, he reeled her in and snaked his arms around her so she couldn't get loose.

"Katniss, what's gotten into you?" Tony asked, his voice low. It took a few moments for Katniss to redirect her glare off of Steve to make the eye contact with Tony. His face was full of concern, and she knew that he hadn't called her Katniss like he usually did to mock her. It was serious.

"I don't know, but I'm starting to think this was a bad idea, bringing you along," Clint replied. "We've on day one and you're already worse off than you ever were back in New York; maybe you need to go back home."

Katniss started squirming around in Tony's grip. "No!" she cried out almost instantly. "You can't send me home. I can't leave."

"Really, 'cause I'm pretty sure we can," Tony piped up. "Ain't a thing for me to call up a plane and put you on the first one back to the Tower."

"You can't do that!"

"Then act like you have some goddamn sense, Katniss!" Clint thundered. "You're walking around like you're a time bomb on the verge of exploding at any second."

"Did someone say bomb?" Their heads all turned to the sound of the voice, just to see Natasha standing right outside of the glass doors, arms folded across her chest.

"Yeah, in reference your daughter," Tony said, ignoring all of the death glares Katniss was shooting his way.

"Tasha, why aren't you—"

"We've got a problem," Natasha interrupted Clint smoothly. "I just got word that there was another explosion, Mandarin’s already claimed it. Hospital called about five minutes ago, said one of our liabilities was on site and got injured."

"Who?" Natasha was silent, blinking a few times as though she hadn't heard Tony's question. "Natasha, who?"

"Harold Hogan."

The grip around Katniss' chest slacked as Tony backed away from her slowly. It was like someone had sucked all the air out of their environment, because even Katniss could feel the heavy weight on her chest. Tony stumbled away blindly in the direction of the door, Clint and Steve behind him. Katniss stood there in her place, dumbfounded. Happy had being in an accident, one of the explosions, and he was now in the hospital. She'd just seen him yesterday when they'd pulled into the mansion for the first time, how in the  _hell_  had this happened?

She started towards the glass doors, but Natasha cleared her throat loudly and shook Katniss right out of her panicked train of thought. "Tony and the boys can handle it," she said, her voice clipped. "They won't let in too many visitors anyways."

Katniss lifted her head, her eyes meeting Natasha's steely gaze. The look on her face said it all, really.

* * *

**_ROMANOFF-BARTON, KATNISS DELIA_ **

**_SHIELD OPERATIVE #7213  
ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION_ **

**_: // MESSAGE:_ IT HAS COME TO OUR ATTENTION THAT AGENT ROMANOFF HAS BEEN GIVEN AN UNDER THE TABLE MISSION, IN WHICH SHE HAS OBTAINED INFORMATION ON A SHIELD PROJECT BEYOND HER CLEARANCE. YOU ARE TO OBTAIN THIS INFORMATION AND HAND IT IN TO SHIELD OFFICES AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, AND WITHOUT ANY TAMPERING. IF FOUND THAT YOU HAVE BEEN HARBORING THE INFORMATION OR HAVE INFORMED ROMANOFF OF YOUR MISSION, REPERCUSSIONS WILL BE DEALT OUT ACCORDINGLY. SPECS SAY ROMANOFF LIFTED INFORMATION WITH A PHYSICAL TRANSFER; YOU WILL BE LOOKING FOR A SMALL, PORTABLE OBJECT, SUCH AS A USB, COMPUTER CHIP, ETC. DELETE AS SOON AS FINISHED. **

**_ADDENDUM —_ You have twenty-four hours. _  
\- Alexander Pierce, SHIELD Senior Official_**


	7. knowledge is power (and danger)

Katniss had numbly walked into the house with Natasha on her heels, able to feel the daggers she was shooting right in her back. Tony was shouting out obscenities as he flew around the house like a whirlwind, trying to get himself together before they took off. Clint and Steve were nowhere in sight as Katniss watched Tony dart around as though he was a chicken with his head cut off. He was going out of his mind and Katniss could do nothing but stand there frozen, being an onlooker. She felt a dainty hand land on her shoulder, Natasha's low voice in her ear. "Go downstairs to Tony's lab and wait for me," she instructed. Katniss didn't move. Again, Natasha leaned in. "Now."

Something in Katniss began to will her feet forward, moving like a zombie towards Tony's lab. All she could think of was Tony's face and the sheer anger in his voice after Natasha had said Happy's name. Katniss wanted to know what had happened to Happy; what Natasha had meant by on site or what the damage done by the explosion was, but it wasn't like she was going to get any type of answers. Instead, she just kept adding on to the list of questions that was steadily growing at this rate.

Making it inside of Tony's lab, the glass doors closed behind her as she looked around. The lab was messier than his one back at home in Avengers Tower; parts and tools were scattered everywhere amidst food trash and crumpled up pieces of paper. Katniss could tell that each of the pieces went to another Iron Man suit, and she wondered just how many additions he'd made to the Mark. Chances are, the number would surprise her, and she had high expectations.

Katniss began to wander through the lab, her hand running over some of the lab tables and different pieces Tony had manufactured. No wonder that he was losing so much sleep; he had been working on so much and there seemed to be no end goal in sight. Biting her lip and frowning in disapproval, she shook her head at the thought of Tony losing all his sleep over something as simple as this. New York had done him in in so many different ways, beyond her imagination's worth and it was clearly not getting better. She was so lost in thought fretting over Tony's wellbeing that she almost didn't hear the sound of the doors sliding open once again.

She turned around right as she caught sight of Natasha approaching, her face in a deadest expression. "I—" Katniss started, but she never finished.

Natasha knocked the words right out of her mouth as both her hands wrapped around Katniss' arms, slamming her against one of the lab tables forcefully. Pieces and tools clattered straight to the ground, Natasha's fingernails digging into skin. "What the  _hell_  is wrong with you?" she hissed between her clenched teeth, rattling Katniss again for emphasis. "First you explode this morning for no damn reason, then you're about to tear Steve a new one for so much as speaking to you? I know that I might not be the most pleasant person ever but you sure are making your way on up the list."

"Let go of me," Katniss howled. Natasha's grip didn't slacken any, just another shove against the table. "Look, I didn't mean—"

"Cut the bullshit, you meant every bit of it and you know it."

Katniss reached up, pushing Natasha off of her forcefully. "You're right; I did mean every bit of it. I want you and Clint and Steve and Tony and everyone else  _off of my fucking case._ " Her eyes narrowed into slits as she sized up her mother, Natasha doing the same.

In the time that Katniss had known her mother, she'd never seen her go into Widow mode. Sure, she'd seen her mom get serious and get tough when it came to taking down the bad guy, but according to what Clint had told her, it was nothing compared to what she had been like before SHIELD got to her. She was like a wild animal, he'd said; she was feral and there was no stopping her. Looking at her from her stance a few feet away, she had a dangerous look in her eyes, her teeth grinding together. "I'm giving you one chance," she snarled, upper lip curling, like a dog. "You tell me why you're really here, or I'm going to Fury."

Katniss' blood ran cold, and she was sure that the look on her face mirrored the feeling. "I…" she stammered out, voice octaves softer than it had been initially. “You can't go to Fury."

"Right, because he has nothing to do with any of this?" Natasha prompted, and that was the minute that Katniss knew Natasha was on to her. Somewhere deep inside her subconscious, she knew it had been child's play, thinking she could pull one over on the Black Widow. Folding her arms of her chest, Natasha continued. "It's Pierce, isn't it? He was the one who you were talking to in that office at Tony's party?" Her voice wasn't as sharp as it had been, but there was still a certain danger lingering in her tone.

Katniss knotted her fists into her hair, yanking angrily on the roots from frustration as she turned away from Natasha. "It's not like I asked him to drag me off to some room and give me an itinerary that I wanted nothing to do with," she shouted in exasperation. "I couldn't not do what he asked, not when he was threatening you and Clint and everyone else that I cared about."

"Why didn't you say something?" Natasha coaxed. "You're not supposed to protect us, it's supposed to be the other way around—"

"And what, let you guys get hurt? You all always try to protect me, but who protects you? Who’s the one who’s gonna do that if you’re all worrying about me? And when he’s dealing out the threats he is? No…no, I have to do what he asks me."

Natasha ran her fingers through her hair, sighing. She opened her mouth, reciting what seemed like a mantra Katniss and herself had lived by for years now. "You are an Avenger," she started slowly, eyes closed. "And an Avenger only. You're only allowed to be used at SHIELD's disposal—"

Katniss had had enough, growing frustrated as she slammed her hands down on a lab table and throwing all of the contents into the floor with the swipe of her hand. "He doesn't care, Natasha!" she shrieked, her vocal cords straining. Whirling around, she stared at her mother with frantic eyes, tears pricking at the corners. "Pierce does not care. I told him that and his response is that you and Clint and Steve  _are._  Piece doesn't give a fuck." The words flew out of Katniss' mouth forcefully, her breathing shaky as she stared at Natasha.

"So what does he want? What does he want with you, what makes you so crucial to…whatever plan he's got brewing?" Natasha finally asked, throwing her hands up and letting them slap her thighs as they fell.

"I…I don't know." Katniss was stumbling over her own words, the tears blinding her as they involuntarily rolled down her cheeks. "I don't know, I don't  _know!_  He just wants me, says people trust me, people feel safe when they see me. He wants me to be a distraction, wants me to ‘be the veil’, whatever the fuck that means—"

"—that veil has been gone the minute aliens came out of a hole in the sky," Natasha interrupted, falling silent after seeing the rabid look on her daughter's face.

"Yeah, well, he wants it back, and he wants me to put it back up. I don’t know how to do half the shit he wants me to do, I don’t even know what half of his directions that he sends me even fucking mean, I just…I refuse to let him take you away. Not if I can do something about it."

Natasha's eyes were locked dead on her daughter, watching as Katniss' chest rose and fell quickly with her now irregular breathing trying to stabilize. Taking a deep breath, Natasha started to speak. "Look, I know you don't want me to, but—"

"No," Katniss warned, her eyes growing wide as she jabbed a finger towards the cavity of Natasha's chest. "No. You  _cannot_  tell him. I wasn't even supposed to tell you; for god's sake, you might be shipped off in a box overnight now that I've told you Pierce has got every damn eye he can think of on me. If you tell Clint, I swear to  _god_  I will never forgive you."

"I have to tell him, Katniss, you're his child. You saw what he almost did to Fury two years ago when he pulled you from the safe house, do you really want another episode?" Natasha looked around the room before her eyes fell back on Katniss. "Besides, you won't be in it alone if you tell him, we can help you, protect you—"

"Stop saying you can fucking protect me, you  _can't!"_  Katniss shrieked, lashing out both verbally and physically, her hand knocking off a face mask for another Iron Man suit into the wall behind her. "You can't protect me from this, you can't protect me from anything anymore! That ended the minute Fury pulled me out of those woods. Pierce is not going to let you talk him out of this; he's going to kill you if he knows that I said a word about it! God, Happy was probably my fault—"

"Katniss, Happy's accident was  _not_  your fault—"

"—and how do you know that? Huh? The Mandarin might have claimed it, but he’s an egotistical maniac, Pierce might have been behind it the whole time and pinned it right on the guy who wants attention on him. He's everywhere, Natasha! It's possible, and it could be any of us next, any of us!"

The tears kept flowing as Katniss ripped at the contents on the nearby tables, throwing them towards the wall and scratchy screams leaving her throat. Over and over again, she sobbed the same thing: "Just let me go!" The plea ripped from her as she bent over, Natasha's arms locking around her torso and trying to pull her away from Tony's things. Natasha was strong, but Katniss' adrenaline rush as she completely panicked was stronger as she thrashed against her mother's grip.

"Katniss…Katniss, shh," Natasha soothed, smoothing back the dark mess of hair on her daughter's head. "Listen to me. Everything is going to be okay, no one else is going to get hurt. But you have to promise me that you’re out of this. You didn’t follow orders before, you can’t now. They want you as a mascot so they can eventually turn you into a puppet. It’s what he wants, it’s what they always want. You’re out, okay? Be done."

Katniss only wished she could do as her mother asked.

* * *

Tony, Clint, and Steve had yet to return, so Natasha and Katniss had the house to themselves for the remainder of the evening. After her meltdown in the lab, Natasha had left Katniss be, allowing her access to any files she wanted to look at that involved the bombings. A certain weight felt as though it had been lifted off her shoulders now that her mother knew something in terms of what her mission was, but in its place a heavier weight had been added. She didn't even want to think of the repercussions that would come along if Pierce discovered anything, so she tried to reassure herself with the thought that at least it was Natasha who knew. Natasha had secrets that had age-old secrets of their own, she could handle herself. Someone like Clint or god forbid, Steve, would have thrown her under the bus; unintentionally but nonetheless.

The files that Natasha had let her read were intriguing at the slightest. According to the various reports and accounts of each and every ‘bombing’ from the Mandarin, that whole image was a ploy and something else was going on, since most victims thus far had been war veterans. They believed the Mandarin was merely a cover up, a guy for hire solely around to stir up trouble and keep people from looking into the bombings. In sloppy handwriting and circled in red pen at the bottom of one of the documents, Natasha had written 'Steve—SSS, Abraham Erskine'.

The longer she spent flipping through reports and research, the more she found herself looking at a clock. Pierce's deadline on the flash drive was nearing and she had yet to act on it. Chances were he wasn't going to wait around forever for an answer, much less giving her any sort of extension. She hated to move in on Natasha and her personal space so soon, especially after the Happy incident and her meltdown in the lab, but she had to do what she had to do. Regardless of what her mother wanted, Katniss had to protect them. Being selfish was a quality that was no longer allowed.

Glancing up at the clock after reading Natasha's notes in the margins of a report, she bit down on her lip. It was already past midnight, and something in her told her that there was a transmission from Pierce's offices—whatever the hell he meant by  _that_ —awaiting her. "JARVIS," Katniss called out warily.

"Yes, Miss Romanoff-Barton?" came the smooth voice of the AI.

Straightening up on her bed, she closed the file warily and picked up the tablet Natasha had lent her. "Pull up security feeds for the house, room by room." The screen on the tablet shifted, JARVIS pulling images from each room in the house up in different little boxes across the screen. Scanning over each box, Katniss tried to pinpoint each room and whether or not it was occupied. "Zoom in on the lab," she added, and the small little box in the corner grew larger. Katniss watched as a black-and-white grainy film Natasha in the lab paced back and forth.  _If she's in the lab, her room is unoccupied. Might as well start there for the drive._

"Thanks JARVIS," Katniss said as she threw the tablet across the bed, rolling off and letting her feet hit the floor.

"Any time, Miss Romanoff-Barton."

Katniss was sure to pull the door open as quietly, careful to make as little noise as possible. If Natasha caught any wind of movement, she'd be on her trail faster than she'd have time to run. Her footsteps were light and quick as she moved through the dark mansion, heart hammering in her ears. Natasha and Clint's room was on the opposite end of the house, behind a white door with a handmade sign on the doorknob with Tony's chicken scratch scribbled on there, the words nearly illegible. Pressing her ear to the door, Katniss' shaking hands found the knob and slowly turned it.

Pushing the door open, Katniss slipped in before closing it softly behind her. Her hands moved along the wall, searching for a switch. Fingers moving up the surface of the wall, they caught a lever and pushed it up, light flooding the room. If she didn't know any better, she would have figured the room was uninhabited. The bed was perfectly made with hardly any personal touches to the room that signaled people slept there every night.

"Okay, if I was a world-renowned assassin, where would I store a flash drive?" Katniss muttered under her breath, resting her hands on her hips as she looked around the room. Her eyes flitted back and forth before she saw the light catch something resting on the dresser. Moving towards it with eyebrows furrowed in confusion, she realized that it was a necklace resting atop a jewelry box.

Her fingers reached out to grab the necklace, the miniscule charm sitting in the palm of her hand. It was a tiny little arrow on a silver chain; very plain and simple, but very Natasha. With one hand clutching onto the necklace's chain, she opened the jewelry box carefully with bated breath. There was nothing in there. "Dammit," Katniss hissed, her shoulders falling in defeat.

She stared at the empty box, mind racing.  _If I was a spy, I wouldn't leave something out in the open. Sure, I'd put it in something inconspicuous, but I'd go the extra mile._  Hoping that her hunch would lead her to the jackpot, she reached in the box and grasped onto one of the dividers that were meant to store rings. "Come on," she whispered in her pause before pulling up on the bottom, it sure enough rising up and out of the jewelry box.  _Fake bottom, knew it._

Sure enough, resting there in the fake bottom was a small little silver flash drive, exactly what Pierce had requested. Looking over her shoulder for good measure, she pocketed the drive and slammed the bottom back into the jewelry box. She closed the lid, carefully arranging the necklace on top in the exact way that she had found it, using her still-shaking index fingers to shape the chain in the way she wanted. Once it looked perfect, she turned on her heel, flicked the light switch on her way out and closed the door behind her. There was only one thing left to do, and that was get this to Pierce as fast as she could before he decided to evict Natasha in the early hours of the morning.

_Sorry, Natasha._


	8. the devil comes around

_**ROMANOFF-BARTON, KATNISS DELIA  
  
SHIELD OPERATIVE #7213** _   
__**ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION**

**_: // MESSAGE:_ YOUR DELIVERY TO SHIELD HQ HAS BEEN INTERCEPTED. YOUR SERVICE AND COMPLIANCE IS WELL APPRECIATED. EXPECT CONTACT WITHIN THE NEXT 24-48 HOURS WITH FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS. DELETE AS SOON AS FINISHED. **

**_ADDENDUM —_ I knew I could count on you. _  
\- Alexander Pierce, SHIELD Senior Official_**

* * *

The sounds of war waging in the living room awoke Katniss from an already restless sleep, a groan falling out of her lips. It had already been something like Fight Club ever since Happy had been hospitalized and Tony was on edge 'round the clock, with him claiming that everyone was "designed to get on his nerves" and holing down in his lab. It seemed to Katniss that everyone was beginning to pick up on the antics she'd seen manifesting for years, deeming them as signs of the same self-destructive behavior she was waltzing down the path of. While Tony defended himself to the last straw, Katniss chose to ignore them altogether. She was pretty sure her lower lip had perfect indentation marks of her front teeth where she had forced herself to keep her mouth shut whenever they started talking.

She'd learned that Clint and Steve especially were all over her, trying to get answers that she either didn't have or wasn't allowed to give. Natasha would shoot her inconspicuous glances in the middle of the lectures that Katniss let fly right over her head, as if she was trying to urge Katniss to tell them the truth about why she was really in California. Natasha didn't understand that it wasn't that simple. Going to Clint or Steve two years ago would have made sense; they were always on the same page as her when it came to most things. Nowadays, they were on a completely different book than her. They would be ready to charge straight into the fight, whereas Katniss knew that it was so much more than running off of rash impulses and decisions. Natasha understood that somewhat—keyword being  _somewhat._

"Natasha, for the love of  _god—"_

"I have no control over this, Stark!"

"Well he's sure as hell not staying!"

Groaning over the sounds of the argument, Katniss dragged her hands down the side of her face and kicked the covers off the lower half of her body. Her feet met the floor, making their way towards the door. Katniss took a deep breath before placing her hand on the door handle, pulling it open only a little bit just so she could slip out of the opening. The voices coming down the hall were no longer muffled and several times louder than they had been, growing in volume the closer she got to the living room.

Rounding the corner, Katniss could see that everyone was already in their positions, ready to tear each other to shreds. Tony was standing up, his face twisted into a scowl. Natasha was sitting down on the couch next to Clint; she was on the very edge whereas Clint was relaxed—almost too relaxed to be comfortable. And of course, Steve, in all his meddling glory, was between Tony and Natasha, prepared to break up a fight that he wasn't even involved in.

Steve was the first one to lay eyes on her, his expression changing. The others caught on, a ripple effect over the air surrounding them in the room. Katniss stared at them confused, slightly puzzled and part of her still asleep. It took a moment for her to realize that she had their undivided attention. "Could you guys keep it down?" she asked. "Some of us don't get enough sleep as it is."

They all looked back at her with what felt like blank stares, no one moving to make any sort of response. Figuring she'd made her point—or at least, until she got back to her room—she nodded, turning on her heel to head back to her bedroom. "Wait," Natasha quickly spit out, Katniss stopping in her tracks. "You can't leave."

Katniss turned back around slowly, eyebrows knotted in even more confusion. "Uh, yes she can," Tony said. "She's leaving right now." It sunk in that they were arguing over her, which kept her feet planted firmly on the ground.

Natasha slowly rose from her seat, Steve bristling as he readied himself to move forward. "Tony, I want her to leave just as much as you do, but we  _can't_ , it isn't up to us," she growled, her voice dangerously low.

"Ever since you showed back up, you act like it's all of a sudden your right to take care of her," Tony snarled. Natasha was bewildered, staring at him as though he'd lost his mind.

"Last time I checked, I was the one who gave birth to her almost twenty years ago, not you."

"For the past two years, we have been doing fine, me and her. No one came knocking at ungodly hours, putting her on STRIKE team missions, targeting her, not until  _you_  showed back up. She's an adult, Natasha."

"She's been living with you for the past two years and the two of you are  _not_  stable! She hasn't been in a position to make a good decision for herself in a long time, not since New York royally screwed the both of your minds over."

"Need I remind you that you were the one who left her to fend for herself all those years ago?"

"Guys!" Katniss finally yelled out, sensing the face that Natasha was only two seconds—and steps—away from tearing Tony's face into shreds. They all turned to look back at her, the color deep in Tony's face and Natasha's eyes were feral. "What…what is all of this about?"

"You're wanted," Clint murmured. "Upstairs."

Katniss glanced around the room at all of them. "But you're all down here," she finally replied.

"It's not us," Natasha said, the tone in her voice enough to clue Katniss in on what was going on. The blood ran cold through her veins, and she was almost positive that she'd made some sort of terrified look, judging by the content smirk on Tony's face.

She cleared her throat nervously. "Okay…um, where…you know, where—"

"Do not tell her," Tony threatened, but Natasha wasn't even looking in his direction.

"Third door on the left."

Katniss nodded, taking another deep breath as she walked towards the staircase. Tony was hurtling obscenities at Natasha, in between them yelling for Katniss to come back down the stairs. The last thing Katniss allowed herself to hear before tuning them out was Clint's exasperated groan, "Just let her go."

Her feet felt like lead as she made her way up the winding stairs and down the hall. She could see the two men dressed out in all black, standing by the door Natasha had instructed her to. One of them caught sight of her and immediately started murmuring things into what she assumed was his comm link. Inside her chest, her heart was hammering at the speed of light, something turning inside of her stomach so drastically that she thought she was actually going to be sick.

As she finally came upon the door, one of the men reached out to usher her inside. She was taken aback to see that it was Rumlow, giving her a toothless smile as he opened the door for her. Standing by the window on the opposite end of the room was Alexander Pierce, looking out the window. "Beautiful place, California," he mused as the door slammed shut.

"Yes, I suppose so," Katniss responded quietly.

"Suppose so?" Pierce glanced over his shoulder momentarily. "I'm sure you could say more than just that about it, Miss Romanoff-Barton. You have been living here for almost a week, surely you've made time to explore. Mr. Stark is…well, he's Tony Stark. I think that's enough explanation," he deducted.

"Exploring really…hasn't been on the to-do list." She chose her words carefully, knowing that he was as unpredictable as they came.

Pierce nodded, turning away from the window to pace behind the desk. "Understandable. There are, of course, more important priorities. Priorities that I'm glad to see you have placed accordingly." He paused, looking up at Katniss. "The flash drive is back at the Triskelion being disposed of."

"Good to, uh, good to know."

"You wouldn’t happen to know why Agent Romanoff’s mission was to retract such data, would you? Because whoever’s asked her to retrieve it is most certainly out of line, seeing as how the Lemurian Star files are only accessible to those with Level 9 clearance,” Pierce explained.

Katniss shrugged. "I don't really know," she replied. "I'm just here to do as you asked."

Pierce's lips spread out into a thin, uncomfortable smile. "Of course. Your propos have been looking nice, might I add; the first wave of them have already begun airing and are doing quite well.” The propos had been the next rung of the ladder that Pierce was insisting she climb. She hadn’t the slightest idea Alexander Pierce had been a master when it came to filmography, but they’d taken coverage of her over the last two years, from Tony’s business parties, the Battle of New York, and anything else they could get their hands on and made commercials out of them, meant to appease and ultimately distract the public. Some of them were used for defusing the recent wildfire spread of fear over the Mandarin, others sheer promotion for a designer whose outfit she couldn’t even remember wearing. Katniss found them rather ridiculous, having seen a few of them attached to some of Pierce’s directives, but she wasn’t the one who called the shots. Instead, she had no choice but to let them to use her as their mascot, manipulating her and slapping whatever cause they wanted to it. Control her image, control _her_.

"That's great," Katniss said, the fake smile matching her strained voice.

"And your team? Are they aware?" Katniss shook her head almost instantly, the blood pounding in her neck as she thought about Natasha. For a moment, she could have sworn that he didn't believe her and that she was caught in the lie she'd told, but the harsh glare in his eyes softened and he nodded. "Good, good."

"Speaking of your team, I have another assignment for you," Pierce continued. "I'm sure you're aware of Mr. Stark's upcoming strategy meeting on the Mandarin." That was a legitimate surprise to her; she hadn't been expecting for Tony to do any sort of conference when it came to the bombings, but of course, he was a man of his word, and if this was what he felt was called of him, he would pull out all the stops. He dismissed the slight shake of her head with a wave of his hand. "Not to worry if you don't, we'll get you prepared."

"Prepared? For what?" she asked hesitantly, afraid of what the answer would be.

"You will be accompanying him to these strategy meetings, since they’ve been approved to be televised. Now that Mr. Stark has a personal connection to the incidents, we believe he will be more apt to…speak his full mind, if you will. Show up, diffuse him if you need to, _be_ the reassurance that people need. If there’s anyone that the public will be willing to listen to over Tony Stark, it would be his goddaughter.” Of  _course_  that was where this was going.

"Anything else?" Katniss implored through her gritted teeth.

Pierce paused for a moment, walking around the desk he had been standing behind so he was only inches away from her. "I would like to take this small opportunity we have to clear up some things between us." Katniss swallowed hard.

"Alright."

"You are aware that everything you do does not come back to you, but to your family, your team, and SHIELD as a whole, no?"

Katniss raised one of her eyebrows in curiosity. "I was aware of that when you first came to me."

Pierce nodded. "Good, good…" he trailed off, a toothless smile sliding across his lips. “We of course want to keep them safe, just as we’re doing for everyone else by your cooperation.”

All of the color left Katniss' face as Pierce stepped even closer, resting one of his hands on her shoulder as he leant in. "You haven't convinced them very well," he chided, whispering in her ear.

"I know," she whispered shakily, terrified that if she dared to move an inch, he would kill her on the spot. She had been caught, he  _knew_  and she knew that he knew. It made sense, why this visit was a house visit instead of the usual transmission. "I'll convince them."

"No _,_ " Pierce hissed. "Convince me."

With that, he gave her shoulder a squeeze and stepped away from her, the snake smile back on his face. "Good day, Miss Romanoff-Barton," he addressed her in a strained voice, nodding as he moved past her.

Once the door closed behind him, Katniss crumpled into a chair and started to name her presidents backwards.

* * *

Katniss didn't know how long it had been when she finally picked herself up out of the chair and made her way out of the little room. In truth, it had only been a few minutes, but to her, it had felt like hours. Pierce and his guards were long gone, and Katniss had no idea how they'd made it out of there without a trace. Brushing all the hair out of her face, she tentatively started down the stairs with bated breath. If Pierce had been dumb enough to go out the front door, he'd crossed Tony and the others in his path and they were already extremely unhappy with his being there.

Once she got down to the living room, she was greeted with the abandoned couches and no one in sight. Sighing, she ran her fingers through the hair on her scalp. "Guys—" she called out, only to be interrupted by someone tugging on her arm. Whipping around, terrified, she was relieved to see that it was Clint. His face was in a grave expression, the hand that wasn't wrapped around her arm over his mouth, his index finger pressed against his lips. Still slightly startled, she let him pull her along through the hallways, dragging her through a doorway next to the staircase.

There was little-to-no light as Clint pulled her down the stairs, the door shutting behind her. She could hear the murmur of voices somewhere down below—Katniss was assuming that this was Tony's hidden basement. Moving blindly, her feet met ground and Clint's hand removed itself from her arm as they moved around the staircase. Natasha, Steve, and Tony were all standing on the opposite side of the small room, a little more light shedding on them. Natasha, who had her hand resting over her chin, looked up to see a perplexed Katniss. "Nice to have you back," she mumbled.

Katniss hardly had a moment to register anything before Clint of all people, grabbed her by the shoulders and started yelling. "Pierce? Really?"

"Clint, don't—" Natasha sighed, but Clint wasn't hearing it.

" _No,_  Natasha! I want to know why Pierce is coming around, why she's being called on missions, why that flash drive went missing; I want answers, goddammit!"

If she hadn't been busted before, she was busted for sure now. With the little strength she had, she shook Clint off of her and took a few steps backwards, hands knotting in her hair. "I couldn't tell any of you!" she finally shouted, already choking up. "He threatened all of you, not just me; he's _still_ threatening me! Why do you think he made a house visit this time?"

"Whoa, hold on," Tony said, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. "What do you mean, ' _this time_ _?’_ "

Taking a deep breath, Katniss looked around at the group of people and blinked back tears. "Pierce was the one who was in the office that night with me at Tony's business party, he's the reason I was recruited to go on that mission—apparently, I’m supposed to thwart any advancements any of you make that aren’t in alignment with what he wants, he made me send him the flash drive Natasha got, and now he's coming here to threaten me to ship you all off to fucking  _god knows—"_

Steve interrupted the middle of her rant. "Wait, how does him being in that office at Tony’s party lead to us being threatened?"

Panting and feeling as though she was on the verge of having another panic attack, she shook her head profusely. "Because you’re in his way! He wants me to distract people, keep their priorities where he wants them so he can cover up _something,_ and I don’t know what, but he’s got a very short target list dangling over my head if I fail, and I know exactly who’s on it—you!” Katniss wailed.

"I told you she couldn't handle this on her own," Clint mused in Natasha's direction, Katniss' head snapping up to glare at her mother.

"Wait…you told him?"

Natasha frowned. "I had to. The minute I saw the Trojan drive gone, I knew that Pierce was up to more than just rubbing salt all over a wounded girl."

"Trojan drive?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, the flash drive with the information Fury wanted for me to get off Lemurian Star; I made a fake copy with a Trojan waiting for whoever tries to plug it in. If Pierce has it, like she says, he's not going to be too happy with what he gets."

"Oh my…what… _why would you do that_?" Katniss screamed, rounding on Natasha. "You're the one I'm trying to protect, why the  _hell_  would you let me give him a fake version! He's going to kill all of us now; he knew I told you in the first place and when he gets that flash drive—"

"Katniss, don't yell at her, she's just trying to help you." Clint scolded.

" _Don't you get it, you can't help me!"_

It was silent for a moment, tears streaming down Katniss' face as she stood there and stared at the concerned faces of her team in the dim lighting. Finally, Steve muttered a single word. "Inferno.”

“What?” Katniss asked, her head snapping in his direction.

“You can’t be serious, Rogers,” Tony said.

“We’re crazy if we don’t green-light it now, not after this.”

"Inferno?" Katniss inquired. "What…what's Inferno?"

"That's not your place, Steve," Natasha warned.

"Natasha, we have to. Pierce is hunting her down; the minute he makes a big enough weak spot in her he's going to take her out. One less Avenger he has to worry about."

"You genuinely think he's up to something?" Clint asked.

"He has been the minute you two called a meeting at the Tower; why her? Why not any of us? He’s after her, he knows she’s the key. The minute we go back up those stairs, Inferno has to be in motion."

"Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on? What is Inferno?"

Tony, who all but had his face in the corner, responded to Katniss' question. "Inferno’s the name of your contingency plan. Back when we thought you were really going to go through with being a SHIELD agent, all of us sat down and wrote it out while you were still in rehab. We thought you’d never have the legs you had before that Chitauri stabbed you…writing out a contingency plan was required, after you’d had sustained that major of an injury. In your case, it was the matter of protection in the field. One of us was to be with you at all times on any mission you got assigned, there was always to be an open comm and transmission line; we had it planned down to a T.

“And then you backed off, only wanted to be involved as a consultant, but we still wanted that plan in place in case Fury tried to play you again. You were still too valuable, so we tweaked things. If anything was to happen to you, outside force or done by eye-patch himself, any threat or target on you, one of us accompanies you to a safe house, and the rest of us mark you MIA, KIA, _whatever_ , until the enemy is eliminated.”

Katniss blinked a few times, another tear escaping her. "So, what are you saying, that Pierce is the enemy now?"

"Pierce, SHIELD, it’s always been the enemy, Katniss," Clint corrected her. "And we know that now, now that he's showed up and you've come clean about it. You're not safe."

"Neither are you!" Katniss said, her voice rising slightly in exasperation. "None of you are, now that you know what I'm doing for him!"

Natasha rested a hand on Katniss' shoulder carefully. "But we're not worried about us. We're not the one that he's really trying to take out. He's playing you in any way he can to his advantage; he’s using us to warp you exactly how he wants before he either uses you as a weapon or takes you out."

"He's had this place bugged since we got here, probably the Tower too," Tony explained. "It was only a matter of time before he overhead our conversations."

"Then  _why_ are we discussing this down here?"

"Basement's hidden, no one knows it exists."

Steve cleared his throat. "So when we leave this room, what's the plan going to be?"

Natasha squared back her shoulders. "I guess you two will leave—"

"Whoa," Katniss interrupted her. "What do you mean,  _you two?"_

Clint rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. "When we wrote Inferno, the two of you were still…close, and seeing as how Tony's in no shape to take you and Natasha and I are still held to our SHIELD details, Steve's the next in line. If we’re being honest, Steve was always the first choice."

"No matter now," Natasha cut back in. "You two will leave, get to the safe house, and we'll take on Katniss' mission from there, along with our own."

"No!" Katniss jumped in. "We can't. You can't. He'll know."

"Katniss, he already knows—"

"He wants me to go to the strategy meeting tomorrow with Tony, I can't back out now or he'll know something's up. If we're trying to pull one over on him and get me out of here safely, let me go to it first. Then we run."

"You?" Tony asked, both of his eyebrows lifting. "Why the hell does Pierce want _you_ at my military strategy meeting, to sneak backstage and give him nuke codes?”

Natasha sighed, ignoring Tony. "Fine. Tomorrow, as soon as that press conference is over, Steve and Katniss will get back here, grab their bags, and get the hell out of California. Is that much agreeable for now?" Everyone nodded. Natasha stepped a little closer to Katniss, pulling her into a hug. "It's going to be okay," she whispered.

Katniss couldn't help but to shed a few more tears, burying her face into Natasha's shoulder, trembling. She felt another pair of arms wrap around her back, and then another, and finally another. The group hug didn't last long, thanks to the persistent beeping noise coming from someone's pocket. "Jesus, how do you get service down here?" Tony muttered as the group hug dispersed.

Natasha pulled her communications device from her pocket. "You don't need a cell phone tower to get one of these transmissions—"

Her voice fell off the deep end, freezing in the midst of her tracks. "Nat," Clint coaxed. "Nat, what's wrong?"

"Fury," she said in a strangled voice. “He’s been ambushed.”


	9. firestorm

It was evident that Clint was seething over her allowing herself to be pampered up and move on into Pierce's plans for her like some sort of puppet, but Katniss knew that she had to do what was necessary to keep him off their scent. If she had to include the group, she was going to put on a damn good show for Pierce. Besides, she was being willing and cooperative enough these days; what with telling them confidential information or allowing them to go through with their stupid contingency plan, she figured that it was only fair that they trust her some with the choices she made for herself. Knowing Clint and Natasha though, she'd never be let out of their sight again once this was all said and done with.

Clearing her throat, Katniss attempted to make eye contact with her father in the vanity's mirror. "Any news on that thing?" she asked, wrapping a piece of hair that framed her face around the barrel of the curling iron. Fury had targeted and hunted down in DC—how or why, Katniss was still unsure of—and Natasha had been down in Tony's basement in order to fly under Pierce's radar and gather as much information as she could on who his attacker could have been. Clint, who was sitting on the bed next to the bags they'd been packing earlier for her grand escape, looked up from the carpet and shrugged.

“Not really; Tasha's been down there all night and she's yet to come up with an update. Probably because there's not much more on it; that or she doesn't want you to have to worry about anything else," Clint figured, rubbing the backs of his arms. "All you need to worry about is how you're going to get yourself through this goddamn press whatever as quick as possible and then getting the hell out of California with Steve."

Katniss' lips pursed together as the uncomfortable settling feeling in her stomach reoccurred, thinking about having to run off with Steve later on today. She wasn't thrilled about that in the slightest, but she knew that she was already treading on such delicate lines that were in danger of being crossed that she was just better off to keep her mouth shut. Picking and choosing her battles had become much more than a pastime, it had become more of a lifestyle as she constantly contemplated on what was the lesser of two evils. "Do you know what this meeting is going to be about? Might as well go in there prepared,"' she mumbled.

"Not really. Now that Happy’s been involved and his name’s been released as a victim, the government wants Tony’s assistance in bringing this guy down full-scale. Chances are, they’re going to want the fleet."

"Any tips on defusing him?"

Clint chuckled, mostly out of spite. "You get out of the way and hope that you're far enough away from him when he explodes." Katniss didn't see how that was funny; if anything, it was wise advice.

A knock on the door tore Katniss' attention away from the sardonic smile on Clint's face, almost burning her face with the barrel of the curling iron. Steve poked his head in the small opening of the door. "Tony's leaving in ten, you about ready?" he asked, gaze flitting back and forth between Katniss and Clint. His eyes kept falling back on Katniss; she wasn't entirely sure why, if this had to do with the presentation of herself, he definitely had no reason to stare a few seconds longer. He'd seen her in much more elaborate outfits and makeup and hair before, she wasn't sure why he was all of a sudden paying her more attention.  _Because, Katniss, he's pretty much_ _your newly assigned babysitter. Everything you do now comes back to him, the job description means taking in every detail._

"Yeah, almost," Katniss replied, tapping on her wrist twice. What with the newfound logic of Tony's house being bugged by SHIELD, they'd developed a crude code for the basics whilst holing down in the basement. Two taps to the wrist meant that her in-ear comm link that directed back to Natasha's line was off. Steve gave a small nod, facial features softer than they usually were whenever she was involved.

"Just hurry, we're going to be running low on time." Steve disappeared from the door, closing softly behind him. Katniss set the curling iron down on the vanity table, swiveling around on the stool.

"You're sure it's him?" she uttered out carefully, choosing her words as cryptic as they could come for the bug's sake. Clint nodded, reaching out and grabbing both of her hands.

"Listen to me. I know you're not happy about it being him of all people, but Natasha trusts him, and so do I. You might hate me for saying it, but I think somewhere inside you—whether you want to admit this to yourself or not, you trust him too. He was always the one you trusted; and if I didn't have complete faith that he'd take care of you, I wouldn't have given it my okay." Katniss stared at her small hands enveloped in Clint's, trying to blink back the involuntary tears that she didn't want to show up. "Katniss," Clint muttered, removing one of his hands to rest it on her shoulder. "We're not going to let them hurt you."

"I know," Katniss finally choked out. "It's just…what about you guys? Who's left to protect you if I'm gone?"

Clint laughed. "We were protecting ourselves long before you came along, Kat. You've always been top priority since you joined the team; we're going to put you ahead of the rest of us no matter what you insist."

"Why, because I'm youngest?" Katniss muttered bitterly.

"No, because you're the key." She looked up, Clint's face solemn. "You’re the glue, you’re the reason we even bother with one another. Pierce wasn’t kidding when he said people noticed you; between the skills you got from me, your mother’s brains, add in your temper and personality, you’re the most important to the team, whether you see it or not. You could easily take down the team from the inside out if you wanted, without having to lift a finger." He leaned in, whispering in her ear, "It's why he wants you, and it's why we're not letting him take you from us."

"Thank you." The words were silent coming out of her mouth, but rolled off of her tongue slowly. Clint gave a small nod, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Another knock on the door, this time a lot harsher, and Katniss all but jumped out of her skin as she stood up.

"Relax," Clint said, a little bit louder this time. "This is nothing to be nervous about." Katniss wasn't entirely sure what he was referring to, the press awaiting them or Inferno. Either way, she wasn't going to be able to shake out the trembles in her hands.

Natasha opened the door, a thin-lipped smile on her face. Immediately, the first words that bubbled onto Katniss' lips involved Fury, but the subtle shake of Natasha's head stopped her in her tracks. Looking her up and down, Natasha's toothless smile spread apart. "You look lovely," she complimented, her voice stiff.

"Is she all dolled up for him?" came Tony's slur from the living room, Katniss' eyes locking in on him. Steve, who was standing above Tony, shot him a look.

"Stark," Natasha growled.

"Oh come on Natasha, why do we have to sit here and avoid the goddamn elephant in the room? He's coming for all of us anyways, what's the point of acting like he's not? Besides, she wouldn't be all prettied up and walking out of here with me if it weren't—"

"Shut the hell up, Tony," snarled Clint. "You talk too much for your own fucking good, sometimes."

Tony glared past Katniss at Clint, swirling around the leftover contents of his drink in the glass. It was clear that Tony was drunk off his ass, no doubt about it, and it only made Katniss more afraid of what he had to say, and truth be told, a whole lot more annoyed. "What would you know, Clint, when you can't even  _open_ your damn mouth until they come for her, _like they promised_ —"

"Stop it,” Katniss quickly interjected, clenching both of her fists by her sides. "You may not give two fucks about this whole thing, I don't care if you do or not. But this is about you, you're the reason I have to go, so you're going to get up off your ass and walk the walk." Storming around the couch, she bent down and grabbed his arm, yanking him up.

Tony did half the work on his own, glowering at her as he did so. "Don't you try and blame your whole little problem on me, girl, you were the one who made a deal with the devil."

"To keep you safe," Katniss snarled, baring her teeth like an animal, ready to tear him to shreds.

"And here we all are, making plans and risking our asses to protect who? Oh yeah, big girl's  _definitely_  got this one under control," he sneered.

"Anthony," Natasha barked. "Shut your mouth."

Tony never broke eye contact with Katniss, the two of them staring each other down with such force that it could have been enough to send walls toppling over. His stern expression faltered only slightly, with a smirk settling over his lips as he let out a snort, one that was meant with the cruelest of intentions. He purposefully bumped into her on his way past, knocking her shoulder backwards and almost spilling the remaining contents of his drink as he passed. "Are you all coming or not?" he called out over his shoulder, irritated. "Lights, camera, action and all that shit."

"I'm going to put a bullet in his skull if he says one more word," Natasha muttered through gritted teeth as she followed in line behind Tony, one hand on the small of Katniss' back and guiding her forward. "He's been drunk since last night; don't take anything he says too personally."

"Little bit late for that warning, don't you think?"

Happy's replacement was waiting for them out by the front door, Tony already drunkenly slung inside. Katniss gave the replacement the nicest smile she could possibly conjure up, climbing into the car. She should have been surprised that Steve was sliding in on the other side, into the seat next to her, but of course, nothing was new there. What did surprise her was the sincere half-smile that he gave her when their eyes locked, her head almost immediately dropping as she made room for Natasha.

Katniss nervously fiddled with her bracelet as they drove to Tony's meeting, leg accidentally brushing up against Steve's as she bounced it anxiously. Tony was in the passenger seat, drunkenly rambling on about some great injustice, and out of the corner of her eye, Katniss could see her mother tensed up, ready to strike him like lightning. She had seen Tony drunk dozens of times before, but it had never been this bad. Surely it had to do with Happy being in the hospital, but the way he'd talked to her was as if she was all of a sudden the enemy. It was polarizing, and so strangely different from what she was used to that it almost made her mad.

Natasha leaned over, her lips brushing over a few loose strands of Katniss' hair as she whispered in her ear, "This isn't going to be some press conference where you all sit at a table and people ask you questions, Katniss. This is military, people with serious power who want answers to something we don't know about. Don't answer anything they ask you in particular; just jump in only if you see absolutely necessary." Natasha shook her head. "Best if you not talk at all."

"If Rhodey's there, he'll have your back. He doesn't necessarily have the best of history with a drunken Tony, and you know he likes you."

"Steve will be there too," Clint said finally, pointing at the suddenly-put-on-the-spot super soldier. "If anything goes wrong in the slightest, you find him and you get out of there. Don't worry about me or Natasha. Your safety is top priority and with Pierce yanking all of the strings, we can't take any chances."

Katniss nodded, her skin starting to crawl. One of the things that she'd always loved about living with Tony was his leniency with her. He never saw the need to instill a bunch of guidelines that were rendered pointless at the end of the day; he knew that she had taken good enough care of herself over the years and that she hadn't suddenly become incapable. He seemed to trust her enough, and it was why she and Tony worked together as roommates. The others saw her more as something that was stuffed in a box marked 'fragile' and weren't afraid of hurting her feelings treating her like it. It bruised her each time they did, and just like the last time they were all meshed together as a team, she felt herself closer to combusting.

Sensing the sudden tenseness she'd displayed, Steve straightened up. "I think we got the plan," he said, delivering a quick glance in Katniss' direction. His words seemed sincere enough, and just enough was plenty for her at this point.

The car rolled to a stop in front of what Katniss assumed was  _the_  place, Tony all but falling out of the car when Happy's replacement opened his door. Steve opened his, holding it open for Katniss to slide out, her nervous mutter of thanks drowned out by the sound of the fountain a few feet over. "We'll be back for you," Natasha promised, the truth to her words shining in her eyes as the door was shut on her in the middle of the conversation. Katniss felt her whole body go rigid, the only thing that she could still feel was Steve's hand on the top of her back, steadily guiding her forwards.

Tony was waiting for the two of them inside, rather impatiently. "Today, lovebirds," he groaned. Katniss bit down on her lip, trying to hold in all of the snarky responses that were stirring inside of her head.  _Halfway there, Tony; you're halfway there._

Once she was face to face with Tony, Steve stopped. "I'm not going in with you, but I'll be in the room, okay?" he said, trying to get some sort of confirmation out of Katniss. She just nodded, unsure as to how she was supposed to respond to that. It didn't take long for Steve to disappear from her sight, leaving her feeling even more alone.

"So," she finally said, clearing her throat awkwardly. "What's all of this about?"

"Oh, what?" Tony sneered. "Did you not get today's itinerary via transmission?" Katniss could feel her temper threatening to spike, but she inhaled deeply and tried to keep her head screwed on. Losing her cool wasn't going to make this any more memorable.

"I just know I'm here to keep an eye on you, I don't know they want out of me," she said coolly.

"Keep an eye on me? I'm not the one who needs the babysitter, in case you haven’t noticed."

They arrived in front of a set of double doors, stopping in their tracks. Both of their eyes were caught in a deadlock, the steely glare in Katniss' eyes and the glazed over glower in Tony's. It was silent except for their breathing and the anticipation of someone to say the first word. No one budged. Finally, Katniss jutted her arm out and pushed one of the doors open, head tilting in its direction. "After you."

Tony smirked. "Gladly."

He strode off, not bothering if she was on his heels or not. The room was filled with harsh faces and stony grimaces, every eye trained on not the sight that was Tony Stark peacocking down the aisle, but her. Yes, her, the girl that was one-hundred percent out of place, the girl that most people hadn't seen since New York, the girl that most people didn't remember anyways. The latter seemed to be a bit off the target, as her name went around the room in a hushed whisper that spread like wildfire. Tony pushed open the small gate, waiting for her to pass through it, when the realization settled in Katniss' stomach like a boulder. This certainly didn’t feel like a strategy meeting, this didn’t even feel like a conference. This was a courtroom.

 _Natasha hadn't been kidding,_  Katniss thought, as the blood in her veins went ice cold. The silence and the looks following her weighed a ton, her somewhat falling into the seat next to Tony. She hadn't seen Steve anywhere in the crowd of people, and as much as she'd hate to admit it, his presence was the only thing that was keeping her from going over the deep end. Inside her chest, her heart was beating faster and she could feel the sweat forming on her palms. Another ragged breath escaped her as she moved some of the hair that was framing her face out of her eyes, her mind whirring.  _Start naming presidents. Name them backwards in alphabetical order._

"Mr. Stark, nice of you to join us," one of the men sitting behind the large table up on the raised part of the floor said, snapping Katniss back to reality like a rubber band. "I see you brought a friend."

"Miss Everdeen, yes," Tony replied, sounding disinterested. Katniss was slightly taken aback when he used her old last name, but the only conclusion she'd managed to come to was that he was trying to protect what last shreds of her identity they could. More protection devices, of course; what was there to be surprised about?

"Any reason in particular you brought her along?"

Katniss opened her mouth to speak, but Tony swiftly cut right back in. "Reasons that aren't relevant to this conversation, sure," he said. "Can we get to business, gentlemen? The sun's still shining; I'd like to enjoy the rest of the day in a place where I can see it."

There were about five different men in various uniforms sitting up at the board table, all of them glaring down at Tony in their own special way. The man in the center folded his hands, them down on the table's surface. "Mr. Stark, I understand that you know one of the victims in the latest of the Mandarin's attacks," he began. Katniss glanced over at Tony for some sort of sign that he was playing this game on her side, but he was looking straight ahead.

"Harold Hogan, yes."

"So you are aware that you may be placed on this Mandarin's list of targets?" Tony groaned loudly, tossing his head back.

"Don't tell me this is some intervention where you all are going to assign me some bodyguard; I'm kind of busy playing that part already." His jab at her sent her eyebrows lifting out of shock, glancing over at him.

"Careful, Tony," she found herself saying, her voice sounding almost foreign out loud. "You've already made enough enemies, don't need to make any more."

That seemed to be the first moment that people had truly taken notice of her, and the panel's eyes all fell on her. "Miss Everdeen, are you familiar with the situation at hand?" Katniss felt like a deer trapped in the headlights, every eye glued on her.

"She doesn't need to be addressed—"

"I can answer for myself, thanks," Katniss cut in coolly. All of Natasha's warnings about keeping her mouth shut went down the drain, as it was now a matter of standing up for herself against Tony. She blinked a few times, shrugging. "I know the basics." It was Tony's turn to stare at her, completely baffled as to what she was referring to. He had no idea that Natasha had let her see all of the files she'd been given by SHIELD on the Mandarin, so this was news to him.

"You do?" he asked.

"Yes," Katniss hissed, hair flying in her face as she whipped her head around to glare at him. "It's this whole thing called  _letting me into the loop_."

"Miss Everdeen," one of the men interrupted. "If you know the basics, surely you have some ideas at how we can go about thwarting this terrorist or putting a stop to the attacks?"

"No!" Tony interjected. "We're not including her in war strategies. You want my opinion, that's perfectly fine. But you're not going to ask her."

"And why not?"

"Yes, Tony, why not?" Katniss mimicked.

Tony was appalled. "Why not? This is war, Katniss. You did your time, don't keep trying to jump back in—oh, I forgot, ‘s a little late for that now, am I right?" The smirk beginning to creep on his face was nasty, a clear sign that he was still mad about the Pierce situation. Typical Tony though, he never seemed to let go of things.

"Better watch it Stark, you've already got a fairly large target on your back."

"Can we get back to the situation at hand?" Katniss could feel the hairs standing up on the back of her neck, eyes still in a deadlock with Tony. "Suggestions, Mr. Stark?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Tony said, giving them a dismissive wave. "Forensic labs haven't gotten damn bit of evidence, what makes you think I have any ideas?"

"Would you be willing to lend your suits—"

"Absolutely  _not_ ," Tony said, stiffening.

"Of course Tony isn't going to use his suits, he's not going to put people at risk in his machines." The reasoning gesture Tony gave in her direction was quickly redrawn as she continued. "Besides, he’s selfish. No one other than him is operating those suits."

"Why are you giving them suggestions; you have no business in this conversation, a conversation that doesn't even involve you!" Tony snapped.

"I do, otherwise I wouldn't be here! Come on, don't act like this isn't a surprise to you. With you, it's all Tony all the time."

"Contrary to popular belief, I have a heart!"

"With a piece of  _shrapnel_  embedded in it maybe!" Katniss shrieked. The blood was rising in her cheeks and her heart was thrumming inside her ears, loud enough that she couldn't hear the outbreak of whispers throughout the room. "You're always trying to protect me when maybe the person you need to be protecting is yourself! Look where it got you."

"All thanks to you!"

"Stark! Everdeen!"

Katniss was long past the point of caring of what they said to her; Tony had said it to begin with. It wasn't her fight. "You want my suggestion?" she snapped up at the table. "Get someone who knows what they're talking about to help you with the Mandarin. Clearly, neither of us are suited."

"What would you know, you're a SHIELD puppet?" he fired back. "All you've done is sit around and done his dirty work—"

" _SHIELD_ ," she snarled dangerously. "Knows what they're doing. You're a drunk."

"SHIELD didn't help Fury out too much, seeing as how he's now on a hospital bed."

She had had beyond enough, and wasn't willing to sit around and take any more of Tony's crap. "See you at home, Tin-Man," she hissed. Looking up at the table of men all staring at her with wide eyes, she did a mock bow before storming out of the room. She could hear Tony's angry yells for her to return and the sharp reply of the man sitting head and center to sit back down as she slammed the door behind her.

One of the side doors opened, Steve rushing out. "What was that?" he asked. Katniss shook her head, hands trembling out of fury. She honestly hadn't expected him to stoop so low, and the blow about Fury had sold her. She had no idea that Fury was even in the hospital; how Tony had known that, she didn't know and didn't want to now. Moving some of the hair out of her face, she kept her eyes on the floor as Steve grabbed her by the arms. "We need to go, now."

Katniss just nodded, not even yelling at him as he kept a hand on her arm and started to guide her out the door. Press was swarming everywhere, just like Natasha and Tony had promised. "Head down," Steve advised as he pushed open the door for her.

The barriers had done little to mask the sound of cameras snapping and people yelling out questions, but it seemed more overwhelming once the door had been opened. Like it was scheduled, a black van similar to the one she'd gotten out of earlier pulled up in the crowd of people. Katniss did her best to tune out the noise in order to level her head and calm back down, but right as Steve's hand was hovering over the door handle, she heard her name being shouted over the noise.

Turning her head around to face the person who had called her, she could see Tony had his arms wide out and was strutting towards her. "Running to back to get your next mission?" he asked.

Katniss shook her head. "Just getting as far away from you as I can before you explode." Fighting the smirk on her face was tough, but the one last lingering glare she gave him as she climbed into the car behind Steve was inevitably satisfying.

The door to the van shut, and Katniss had no idea what she'd done.

* * *

There was a rushed and hurried atmosphere as Happy's replacement loaded all of Katniss and Steve's things into their getaway car, Katniss curled up in a ball on the couch. "I'm going to  _slaughter_  Tony when he walks through that door, no one was supposed to know anything about Fury even being in an accident and here he goes blabbing it to the whole damn world," Natasha fumed, pacing back and forth in front of the couch. Clint was sitting a few feet away from Katniss, one of his hands reaching out to grab Katniss'.

"It's over now, so don't worry about it," he attempted at reassuring Katniss.

Katniss shook her head. "He's going to kill me," she muttered. "Tony said too much—"

"Hey, that's on Tony. Not you. By the time Pierce hears anything at all, you won't be around to get hurt."

Steve, who was leaning over the couch with his arms resting on the top, rubbed his jaw. "How much longer is this going to take? We need to get going if we're going to put as much distance as we can between us and this place before you all get visitors." The guess was that the minute Katniss went missing and stopped answering all of her transmissions, Pierce would make a house visit to find out what the deal was.

"Not too much longer, Stark’s guy almost has the car loaded up," Natasha replied.

Katniss kept her eyes trained on her feet, trying to focus on the positives. She was done with all of Pierce's antics; she was making her great escape and if she had any faith in Natasha's espionage skills, she knew that there would be no chance of them finding her. It got under her skin how everyone seemed to swoop up her battles and take them on themselves, but it also felt as though a giant weight had been lifted off her shoulders. It was like she could finally breathe again. The sound of the door slamming caught Natasha's attention. "Is the car ready?" she called out.

"Hell if I know," came Tony's sarcastic drawl from down the hallway. Katniss' body stiffened, Clint loosening the grip on her hand before letting it drop.

"Welcome home," Natasha growled. "How would you like your demise; scrambled or sunny side up?"

Tony appeared in the living room, scowl colored on his face. "Okay, Little Red Riding Hood, no need to treat me with a sour attitude."

"Sour attitude?" Natasha scoffed. "You haven't seen anything yet. Come over here and let me show you how I  _really_  feel."

Katniss' attention had been captured by Clint, who was staring out the large expanse of the window that lined the wall. His eyebrows furrowed as he slowly stood up, walking towards the window. "Clint?" she asked, her voice quiet. "Clint, what is it?" Her questions seemed to grab Natasha's attention, and her red hair flew around to turn and stare in the same direction. She glanced up, unfolding her legs. "What is it?" That time, her voice was a little stronger.

Her head lifted in the direction everyone else's, eyes narrowing to focus in on what everyone else was looking at. There was something in the distance, growing in size with every few seconds that ticked by. She stood up along, taking a few steps cautiously towards the wall. It was a better look at it, but even at a closer stance she couldn't quite tell what it was.

"Oh my god," Natasha breathed out, horrified.

It took another second of studying it and its impending size, but Katniss finally realized what they were, and why Natasha sounded more horrified than she'd ever been, even after fighting off alien warriors. It was helicopters, all of their destinations aimed at the house.

"Katniss," Clint said slowly. "Rogers; get to the car. Now."

"Holy hell," Tony uttered out.

Natasha's hand began to urgently swat at Katniss' back, eyes never leaving the window. "Go, Katniss,  _go!"_  Katniss had never heard her mother yell, or even sound like she was remotely terrified, but this was different. Katniss' eyes surely were as wide as saucers, Steve's hand darting out to grab her arm.

Her legs locked up as Steve started to drag her towards the door. Fear had rendered her completely immobile, her legs stopping on her and she felt as if a panic attack was on the horizon. Her heart rate was spiking drastically, every last ounce of worry flooding her system. Being terrified was an understatement; everything she had feared and anticipated since Pierce's first threat was now coming true. Her breathing was ragged, and while her body was rigid, her mind was whirring. No doubt in her mind that this was Pierce's doing, either-she couldn't think of anyone else who wanted them dead.

"Katniss, come on!" Steve yelled over the now audible sounds of the helicopter engines, tugging on her arm. "We have to go."

"Warning shot!"

"Everybody down!" Natasha screamed, and in one fluid motion, Steve was covering her and sending her down towards the floor. His body was over hers as a deafening bang rocked the whole house, smoke filling her lungs moments after the first shot made an impact. "Steve, get her out of here!"

Steve pulled Katniss up off the ground, carrying her bridal style out of the smoky house, as he knew that her legs weren't going to operate with a simple command. Her body had gone into an instinctual shutdown. Coughing and trying to cover her face, she tried to yell for Natasha or Clint, or even Tony, to run as well, to get out of there-hell, just to make sure they were  _alive_ , but her tongue was made of sawdust.

The air seemed to be a little better in the garage, but smoke from the explosion was beginning to spread faster and faster. Katniss had never seen Steve move so fast, flinging open the passenger side door of the car that had been packed up for them and setting her in the seat. "I...I can do it," she coughed, determined to feel like she didn't need to be babied this whole time as she reached for her seatbelt. Steve shut the door, running around to the other side and slinging his body into the driver's seat.

In record time, he had backed out of the garage and onto the driveway, slamming the gear shift into drive. Katniss watched on in horror as the helicopter gunships approached the house, smoke rising from the impact site of the first shot. "Keep your head down," Steve advised as he slammed his foot down onto the gas, car lurching forward. "They're looking for you."

 _I know, Steve_ , she thought.  _I know._


	10. last men standing

Katniss had awoken a few times throughout the duration of the car ride from the slumber she'd desperately tried to trap herself in; an unmistakable pain surging through her back due to the uncomfortable positions she was having to sit in and the irritability of her eyes or lungs for that matter, the smoke still being filtered out of her system. Her mind however, was wide awake and was tumbling through every thought that popped up inside her head. It was like a war waging internally, but outside, it couldn't be quieter. Steve was a wordless driver, not saying much the whole ride and allowing her the sleep he probably assumed she needed and the only sounds were the faint buzz of the car's radio and Steve's breathing. They stopped a few times, Katniss waking up occasionally during these stops or just to see endless expanses of highway and no other civilization around.

Everything that had happened seemed like some sort of nightmare she'd conjured up while dozing off in the passenger seat. Her incredibly public fight with Tony, the house being attacked, the smoke burning in her eyes and the sounds of Natasha screaming; it was all blurry in her mind, like it had all been her mind's creation. Katniss knew that it was too good for it to be true, the whole thing being nothing but a figment of her imagination. The eerily calm look on Steve's face, the one that meant he was anything but calm at the moment was enough proof she needed to tether herself to reality.

The car rolled to a stop several hours later, Katniss drowsily sitting up and turning to look at Steve. "What are…we here?" she asked groggily, pushing the mess of hair atop her head off her face.

Steve shook his head. "We're switching cars," he explained. "If anyone's looking for us, we have to pull out all the stops." She wanted to ask if this was a part of Inferno's protocol, but she didn't have the energy to. In truth, all of their super-secret plans for her tired her even more than she already was. Instead, she took the punches as they came and rolled with the blow.

How or why there was a truck waiting for them, there in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere, completely abandoned, Katniss had no idea and she didn't really want to know. Instead, she wordlessly climbed out of Tony's sports car and loaded herself into the truck as Steve moved all of their bags. The desertedness of it all gave her an unsettling feeling, and she curled up into a ball on the passenger seat as a means of comforting herself. Comfort seemed far away from wherever she was mentally. She was confused, hurt, scared, barely hanging on by several fraying threads and now on the run. Being with Steve was a whole other ball game that she didn't particularly feel up for playing, either. She was still unsure of how she felt about him accompanying her; part of her didn't entirely trust him, but the other part of her kept relaying on what Clint had said about him.  _He was always the one you trusted._  She only hoped that would hold true, as he shut the driver's door behind him and cranked the keys in the ignition.

What seemed like hours after staring out of the truck's windshield at the unchanging scenery passing by, Steve finally broke the silence. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice strained. Katniss continued to stare straight ahead, not a sound escaping her. He sighed, clearly in frustration. "Look, Katniss, I know you're not thrilled about it being me—believe me, I can relate, but we're stuck together whether you like it or not." He took his eyes off the road for just a split second to glance over at her. "Natasha, Clint, Tony, the others aren't coming for us. It's me and you, and if we're going to make it through this in one piece at most, you have to say  _something_  to me."

She looked over at him, staring at his profile before slowly parting her lips. "Back there...did I cause that?" That obviously wasn't the question he had expected for her to ask, judging by the look on his face. Katniss winced. "I never wanted anyone—"

"Stop. Don't blame this on yourself," Steve cut in icily.

"You said it yourself when we left, they're looking for me."

"Whoever sent those choppers is looking for you because you're an asset. You're valuable, and everyone wants you on their side."

"You included," Katniss pointed out.

Steve gave a slight shrug, eyes trained on the road. "I'm not interested in having you fight with me or against me. All I want is for you to be safe." The words rang in her ears as a silence settled back over them. Steve's biggest interest had always been keeping her safe, it seemed, when he was usually on the failing end of keeping himself that way. He had a rather hypocritical stance on it in her opinion; everything that he tried to protect her from to keep her safe was the first thing he went running to. It was why believing him had become difficult over time.

Straightening up as the truck began to slow down, Katniss laid eyes on their final destination, the safe house—it was more of a glorified cabin, really—that Natasha had sent them to. She had to give her mother props. Everything about Inferno had been carefully crafted to the utmost levels of security. There was no way in hell anyone could find them here, in the middle of virtually nowhere. "Home sweet home," Steve muttered bitterly underneath his breath, putting the car into park.

Katniss wasted no time in getting out of the truck, her feet landing on the pavement roughly. The clean and wholesome smell of nature was refreshing, and she could have sworn she stood there for a few minutes in solitude, eyes closed as she breathed in and out deeply. Eyes fluttering open, she welcomed the drastic change of surroundings with open arms. The green leaves on towering trees, the undisturbed lake glistening off in the distance, even the house itself all reminded her of Twelve. She hadn't been back since Nick Fury took her away two years ago, when he'd enlisted for her help in eliminating Loki. The pang of nostalgia hit her hard; being somewhere that was so familiar to the only home she'd ever known almost made her yearn to go back. "Where are we?" she found herself wondering aloud, still captivated by the sight of trees and nature in general. New York and California had been particularly lacking in such beauties.

"New Jersey," Steve replied. "This was Natasha's top pick for your getaway, not a safe house listed in the SHIELD directory and definitely off the beaten path; I guess in her mind, seclusion equals safety."

Katniss' mouth settled back into its normal state, no expression on her face. "It does, you know." She caught Steve's attention as he continued unloading their bags out of the truck, leaning her body up against the driver's side door. "It's why they sent me to Twelve after I was born. Think about it, if you were looking for the child of a couple of master assassins, would your first thought really be some obscure settlement buried in the mountains?" she prompted. Steve didn't reply, just handed off a duffle bag that she wasn't expecting to fall in her hands.

He was the first one to the door of the house, fumbling for a moment before twisting the key in the knob and opening the door. The smell of wood and something clinical—bleach perhaps—enveloped her as she dropped the duffle bag by the door, eyes already wandering around. It was a far cry from Tony's modern tastes and fashions; the house had a cozier, homey appeal to it, with large couches and ceiling fans and wooden furnishes on just about everything. She had to hand it to her mother. It was a safe house, but it was a house that actually felt safe for once. Here, she blended in, camouflaged quite nicely with her surroundings. She was at ease, for once, and damn, did it feel good.

* * *

While Steve had offered to fix her something to eat after settling down into what would be her bedroom, she quickly denied and asked if there was any way he'd let her out of his sight so she could go exploring. Of course, he'd been incredibly hesitant, but finally complied with her wishes, as long as she agreed to come back before it got dark. He must have seen the desperation and longing in her eyes to return to the woods, where she had found refuge and solace for a majority of her life. It wasn't as if she'd be going too terribly far, her stiffening legs didn't permit her for a thorough exploration.

Her walk down to the lake hadn't been the most peaceful. Instead, her mind was still cluttered with the thoughts of what had happened previously. She and Steve had made their getaway as the helicopters had made their descent on Tony's house, and there was no telling if Natasha or Clint or Tony or anyone had made it out of there alive. There was no hope of contacting them either, Steve had made it very clear that there was no way of getting in touch with them unless they were on the receiving end. She was trapped in the dark, just like she always seemed to be. It was a lonely but familiar place, the dark.

The lake was fairly large; she could see across to the other side, but the end stretched on past her eye's sight allowed. Her reflection was almost a mirror image of herself thanks to the lack of agitation in the water, although it didn't help her in identifying who she was. There on the surface of the water, she was staring at a face that she felt as though she hadn't seen in ages, even though she'd looked at it in almost every reflective surface she passed.  _I wonder,_  she mused to herself.  _How it's possible to become something so far from yourself, even when you're not even trying._

She'd made her way across an abandoned dock, the sounds of the boards creaking underneath her feet as she slowly watched her mirror image follow at the same pace. She was so focused on that reflection and the serenity of her environment that when a new face appeared behind her, it had the same effect as someone tossing a rock into the water and disturbing the peace. Whirling around, she was treated to the sight of Steve, who seemed just as surprised at her reaction as she was to him being there. "God," she sighed, resting a hand over her chest as if the gesture would help regulate her heartbeat. "You know, out of all the times to sneak up on me, now is not the best. Especially with people hunting us down like we're foxes."

Steve looked genuinely apologetic, his hand snaking up behind his neck as his way of keeping idle hands busy. "Sorry," he retracted. "Didn't mean to sneak up on you. I was just coming down here to get you." The puzzled look on her face was his segue into an explanation. "I said until dark, and the moon's already coming up." It took everything in Katniss to fight the groan building in her throat, physically having to hold herself back from rolling her eyes.

"Didn't realize you were planning on being that strict of a babysitter," she griped. "If I would have known that, I would have requested Tony—"

One of Steve's hands wrapped around her arm tightly, an attempt at stopping her from walking past him back up to the house. She knew she'd struck a chord there. "You think I'm here to babysit you?"

Katniss looked around, blinking a few times. "Well we're sure as hell not here because we earned a vacation," she replied, feigning innocence even though it was betrayed by the malice glittering in her eyes.

He groaned, eyes narrowing at her as he rolled his neck. "God, Katniss, don't tell me you're still hung up on this pride shit. For once in your life, can you just shut up long enough to accept the help that's given to you?"

"I don't  _need—_ "

She was cut short by Steve once again, his grip on her slacking up a bit. "It's not because we don't think you're capable, it's because we care about you! If we didn't care about you, there would be no Inferno; there would be none of this saving your ass when you get yourself caught into situations like this. You're…dammit, Katniss, you're just—"

"I'm what, Steve?"

Steve didn't say anything. He was oddly silent as he dropped his hand off of her altogether, it brushing her thigh. She had expected him to dig his fingers into her arm until he left a bruise, but this was Steve. He was docile, and while he had been programmed in a sense to fight the good fight, he'd always have that optimism in every lost cause. So no, conjuring up thoughts of him hurting her out of his frustration was a moot point, because it wasn't going to happen. Instead, he shook his head at her and turned on his heel to start the hike back up to the house. "Moon's out," he said, Katniss unsure if this was a reminder to her adopted curfew or a jab at something completely different.

It should have been something she was able to let lie, but he'd already stirred up the water inside her head with an incredibly large stick, and had found the surefire way of riling her up in two seconds flat _. Predictable, as usual._  Stomping up behind him, she caught up with him quickly and was right on his heels. "What, Steve? Am I a liability or something?" she verbalized, trying to slow his rapid pace and get some answers of her own. Katniss felt like his shadow, peering over his shoulder as he looked straight ahead.

"Get a grip, of course you're a liability," he snorted. He took the steps up to the front door two at a time, pushing it open and not bothering to catch it when it came falling back into place. Katniss gave it a shove as she stormed in behind him. The living area was lit by a few lamps, the smell of whatever Steve had been making for dinner welcoming her back inside.

"So what am I then?" she fired back, still hot on his heels. Steve stopped, turning back around slowly to face her. "What am I?" The second time it fell out of her mouth, it was more disheartened, her at the half-way point of resignation.

He strode forward, only a few inches separating them. "You're stuck."

"I'm stuck," Katniss repeated dumbly, trying to process those words.

"Ever since Pierce came in, ever since we showed up at the Tower, it's been like New York all over again. You freeze up, lock down, and it's like you're all of a sudden trapped back in Twelve. There's no one there to defend you, and in your mind, it's as if you have to go at it alone. And if anyone offers you their help, it turns into a matter of pride, or you turn it around into that 'must protect' instinct, or…whatever it is. You always do it when you're thrown in a compromising situation, you go at it alone so you don’t make liabilities out of anyone other than yourself," he assessed.

"And when did you become all-knowing on a person's behavior? You got injected with a serum to make you stronger, not one that…opened your mind to the universe, or whatever kind of shit."

"That isn't the point though," Steve corrected her, shaking his head. "You haven't gotten it into your head that you aren't alone anymore. You don't have to prove yourself by taking care of all your problems. You fought off aliens, for the love of all things bright and beautiful."

"Of course you'd find some way to slip in an America reference—"

"Is this all a joke to you?"

"What, you psychoanalyzing me?" Katniss fired off. "Yes, because, as you may find it hard to believe, you know nothing about me. When you frolicked off to DC a year and a half ago, I kept on going. People don't just  _stay the same_ , Steve, they grow and change. They didn't throw me into the freezer; there was no picking back up where we left off. I did what I had to do, and I didn't stop once you left."

"You're a creature of habit though; you always go back to what's instilled inside you. Protecting what's yours, even if it lands you in a bad spot." Steve stopped for a moment, his eyes ravaging over her from top to bottom. "You're braver than most of us, Katniss. We know it. But we're all playing for the same team, and if you keep going off by yourself, you're going to get yourself killed. And if that happens…" His voice trailed off of the deep end.

It was then, in that moment of silence that Katniss was able to see the vulnerability seeping off of him. She could see the weariness there in his eyes, like all of the arguing with her had worn him down to the core. He wasn't interested in picking a fight, a far cry from the first few months after the rift driven between them. There was something else there; Katniss wanted to say that it was still a sign of affection, or maybe it was just her confusing a spark with a flicker. After all, this was an assignment for him, just another day at the office. And it was then that she genuinely and truly hated the predicament she'd burrowed them down into.

The sinking feeling was nestling somewhere in her stomach as the beeping of some device tore them away from the intensity. "It's a secure transmission," Steve informed, already cradling the tablet between his forearm and his chest. Katniss padded over beside him, eyebrows knitted in confusion as she watched him accept.

Natasha's face appeared on the screen, and a giant weight Katniss hadn't even realized was pressing down on her shoulders was alleviated. "Thank god," Katniss sighed. Even through the grainy transmission, she could see the red-alert look in Natasha's worried eyes. She looked as though she'd taken quite a beating.

"Natasha," Steve spoke into the receiver. "Natasha, can you hear me?"

"Steve? Katniss, are you there?" Natasha rambled on over Steve, before she seemed to pick up on the sound coming from the opposite end. "Are you guys at the safe house? No complications?"

"Yeah, we made it," Steve confirmed. "Natasha, what happened?"

"Listen, I don't have a lot of time before SHIELD finds this back channel and we're caught." The rushed, urgent tone in her mother's voice sent a chill up Katniss' spine. It was like her own mouth had turned into dust, her lips unable to part and ask her fair share of questions.  _Are you okay, is Clint okay, is Tony, was Pierce behind this, are we being hunted?_  The endless thoughts bouncing around in her head were cut off as Natasha started speaking again. "Fury's dead, Pierce has me scheduled for a conference in DC tomorrow, and Tony's already off the grid."

"Tony…fuck, Natasha, are you all okay?" Katniss' heart skipped a beat, as the pause grew longer and longer in between her mother's responses.

Natasha grimaced. "The house is currently mostly submerged under the sea, if that tells you anything." She did a quick glance over her shoulder, before looking back into the camera. "Look, the two of you need to decrypt that hard-drive that I stashed in Katniss' bag, find out what's going on. I'm already on my own as it is, what with Clint in complete denial and Tony's Houdini act after he went under with the suit along with the rest of the house. Pierce wants answers and while we keep your statuses under wraps, this is your chance to find out why he's been using Katniss and what he's really up to."

"We don't really have much of a choice, I take it?" Steve tried, and Natasha shook her head.

"The time for making choices is over. Something about all of this isn't right and if my gut instinct is telling me anything, it's that you two need to stay undercover for as long as possible. Figure out that drive."

"Where do we contact you?"

"You don't, it's too risky." The noise on the opposite end caught Natasha's attention, and she went rigid. "Look," she hissed, dropping her voice down. "The safe house isn't registered under SHIELD, you two are as off the grid as possible. I've already heard the conversations, they're looking for the two of you as we speak and I don't think it's for assessing your wellbeing. With Fury dead, there are less and less people to trust. Do not trust anyone, you understand me? You don't take any calls, any transmissions; I'll get in touch with you from this same line. Steve, take care of her."

"Nat—" Katniss finally found her voice somewhere in the back of her throat, desperately burning for some sort of acknowledgement, especially if this was the last time she'd see her for a while. Natasha heard the exigency in her daughter's voice, her eyes widening.

"Katniss, take care of Rogers. You two are all you have now," she said, her voice softer than it was. A sad smile spread across Natasha's lips, Katniss feeling the burning dryness in her own throat and the thorns of salt pricking in the corners of her eyes. "Katniss, I love you."

The line went black.


	11. risking it all

Sleepless nights were a familiarity in Katniss' world; her mind was a scary place to be and it tended to not be the most ideal place when one was trying to sleep in peace, or get sleep at all. She spent most of the night, sitting in the windowsill and staring at the lake off in the distance. The moon's reflection was barely visible on the surface of the water, and while it was serene from the diminutive glance she had at the sight, everything still felt off kilter. Natasha's transmission, the urgency in her voice; Natasha Romanoff wasn't one to be scared. She was fearless, even when she wasn't, and when there was unstableness to her, Katniss knew something was terribly wrong. Ever since the transmission had ended, the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach had yet to go away.

Somewhere late into the night, she traipsed downstairs for a glass of water after the realization sleep wasn't going to come as easily as she hoped sank in. Steve was already occupying the kitchen when she made it down the stairs, sitting at the end of the kitchen table and absentmindedly fiddling with the flash drive Natasha had thrust into their possession before taking off. "You know it's two in the morning, right?"

She watched closely as his shoulders moved up and down in a simple shrug. "There are more ungodly hours," Steve countered. She was silent for a moment; it had been a long day for the both of them, and she didn't understand why he could still be awake. If her brain permitted it, she would have been out like a light. Surely he wasn't the same way.

"Can't sleep?" she pondered aloud as she passed by the table, in a beeline towards the refrigerator.

"Like you," he pointed out softly. "You're awake."

"I'm used to it," Katniss replied, opening the door to the refrigerator in search of something to drink. "Sleeping is not exactly something I do a lot of anymore." Glancing over her shoulder briefly in his direction, she could see him still toying with the drive, twirling it in between his index finger and thumb. It was like he was studying it, there in the incredibly-dim lighting. Sighing at the fact she could find nothing inside the refrigerator, she pushed the door back to a close.

"Scared of falling asleep?"

"Scared of dreaming," she corrected him, standing up on her tiptoes as she opened a cabinet door to find a glass. "When you're asleep, you're completely submissive to whatever your mind conjures up. There's no hope of controlling it. To me, it's better to just be sleep deprive underneath your eyes than playing prisoner to your mind."

Steve fell silent behind her; the only sound filling the room was the tap running, water sloshing around in the glass Katniss had found. As she twisted the knob on the sink to turn it off, turning around slowly and leaning against the sink, she could see the somewhat despaired look on Steve's face.  _Right, this didn't affect just you. They were trying to kill all of us._ "We know why I'm awake, but what about you?" she found herself saying.

He didn't speak for a moment, eyes still trained on the small little flash drive in his hands. She watched as his upper lip twitched, his mouth parting to say something. "I just…this drive has answers, answers to questions we haven't even begun to ask ourselves, and we're nowhere closer to figuring out how to even get in it than we were when Natasha got it off that ship," he mumbled.

"Hey," Katniss chastised gently, padding over to the table and taking the seat to the right of his seat at the head of the table. "We'll figure it out. It's not like we have anywhere to go, or anything to do. We're kind of out in the middle of nowhere."

"Technically, we're in the middle of New Jersey," Steve corrected her, setting the drive down on the table's surface. "We really don't have much of a choice when it comes to cracking this thing."

She smiled sadly, inching her hand closer to his. "When have we ever?" she asked cryptically, tilting her head to the side.

Lifting up her glass and taking a slow swallow of her water, she kept her eyes trained on him. He seemed completely tangled in the mystery of that stupid flash drive, and she couldn't really blame him, even though she wanted to. "We're just in the dark on everything, it seems," he noted, staring down at the drive.

"We pretty much live there, Steve."

He lifted his gaze for a moment, glancing up at her. "I just thought those days were over the minute we busted Fury for the Tesseract."

One of Katniss' shoulders rose and fell quickly in a simple shrug. "SHIELD's nothing but secrets, there will always be another wall to break through." Her choice of words didn't seem to be the best, as Steve's face fell. It was the truth, though. Her life and everything she knew was constructed on a foundation of secrets, and he was probably no different. That was what happened when you got involved with an intelligence organization like SHIELD. Your life was composed of secrets and living with a perpetual veil overhead. "I'll make breakfast tomorrow," she offered after a moment of silence, a hopeful smile spreading across her lips. "To go along with your daily dosage of concern."

"I'd like that," Steve admitted, giving her a half a smile. He then gestured his head back towards the stairs. "Go on, go back to sleep. You need your rest. Besides, this will all be here when we wake up." She wanted to argue with him and insist that she would stay, but she was too tired to fight with him. She rose from her chair slowly, and with one last look at Steve, started back up the stairs at a sluggish pace, each foot dragging against the stairs as she climbed.

Making it into her room, she closed the door and leaned up against the back of it for a moment, eyes fluttering shut. God, how she wanted to go to sleep like Steve had asked of her, but she knew how much good that would do her. A few moments had passed after her door clicked shut, the soft sound of Steve's footsteps moving through the cabin and up the stairs. The sound faded away as they grew closer in distance, Katniss' breath hitching in her throat. He had to be standing on the other side of that door—what he was waiting for, something, or maybe nothing at all, she didn't have the first inkling of an idea. Her heartbeat was erratic; the odd little thumping in her chest after several missed beats, and completely out of its pattern. The sensation was so familiar to her, and she hadn't had this sort of anomaly occur in two years. For once in a long time, she wanted for Steve to just do something, anything—even if it  _was_  nothing. Her hand still hovering over the doorknob as she waited, she finally felt a sigh push past her lips as the footsteps resumed, Steve heading in the direction of his room.

She hardly slept.

* * *

The smell of something cooking downstairs startled Katniss awake, disoriented and trying to recall when she'd lost consciousness during the night. Sleep had fallen over her at some godforsaken hour, she assumed, and she had no idea how long she'd been asleep. Rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand, she began to untangle herself from the knotted blankets around her legs and rolled over so both feet were resting on the floor. With her bare feet, the cold touch of the floor got her up and moving a lot faster than she would have otherwise.

Dragging herself slowly down the stairs, she was treated to the sight of Steve's back to her, slaving away over what she assumed was the stovetop. He had yet to notice her presence, completely absorbed by his work fixing breakfast. Katniss folded her arms over her chest as she stepped off the stairs, leaning up against the edge of the banister. "I said I'd make breakfast," she pointed out carefully, making her presence known to him.

"Didn't want to wake you; when I came in to check on you earlier, you were out like a light," he reasoned, shooting a brief glance over his shoulder at her. Katniss kept her eyes trained on his back, moving to sit down at the place at the kitchen table where he'd been last night. Resting both elbows on the surface, she leaned forward.

"You could have always woken me up," Katniss insisted. "I probably would have thanked you for it." Steve turned back around in the middle of her grumblings, a plate in either of his hand with an omelet sitting on each. She had to give him credit where it was due; breakfast looked incredibly enticing. Although, trusting a meal on first glance was a mistake she made all too often with her godfather, who had the capabilities of screwing up a task as simple as making toast.

"If it really bothers you that much, you can make us lunch." He strode across the kitchen, setting down a plate in front of her and his own to her right. "I didn't take you for someone who was dying for the chance to display her newfound skills in the culinary arts," he explained, the beginnings of a smirk spreading over his lips.

Katniss gave a one-shouldered shrug, reaching for the fork he'd set on the table before she'd arrived. "Over the past two years, I kind of had to get creative on ways to pass the time. Archery and keeping up with Tony or the Kardashians can only occupy you for so long. It was something Pepper and I did for fun," she explained. The memories of messing around the kitchen briefly flashed through her mind; she and Pepper would look up recipes on the Internet and usually pull off mediocre versions of whatever it was they were making, Tony often whirling through and wondering what had exploded over the counter.

Steve settled down into his chair, stabbing the omelet with his own fork. "You don't really speak a lot about your time at the Tower, you know," he mentioned, a clear sign of his piqued interest.

"Like I said, there wasn't much talk about," she muttered under her breath.

"I'm sure there was," he insisted.

"Not like you would’ve ever been around to know." The words went sour the moment they spilled off her tongue, blood freezing and her body going rigid.  _Great, I've started the next fucking World War_ , she thought to herself as she braced for impact. They'd been doing so well, too; the slow warming back up to him had appeared to be steady, and she'd probably ruined it all with a few words. She gave it three minutes before they started hurtling the knives they were using to cut up food at each other's heads after what she'd done.

If Steve had picked up on the unintentional-but-inevitable iciness over her comment, he sure didn't let her know it. She watched cautiously as he swallowed, opening his mouth to speak. "Since we're out here and clearly not going anywhere any time soon, we might as well start making some headway on what's on that drive," he proposed. Katniss nodded in agreement.

"Let's start with the basics—we know that it came from the Lemurian Star's hard drive."

"And Pierce sent me to make sure Natasha didn't get her hands on it, and wanted me to turn it in the minute he found out I failed," Katniss added, waving her fork around absentmindedly as she rested her elbow upright on the table's surface.

"So we know that whatever it is, Pierce wants to keep it a secret. Do we think it came off his desk, that he's the one behind it?"

"You'd think I'd be surprised by you saying that, but at this point, if you told me he was behind global warming, I'd believe you," she reasoned, rolling her eyes. "He has to be, unless Fury's one twisted son of a bitch."

"I doubt Fury would send Natasha to retrieve information off his own ship," Steve argued.

"Unless we're saying that Fury's the one who wanted the information all along."

"Then we would be assuming that Fury is the enemy here and that Pierce is trying to stop him, or that Fury and Pierce are working together. Judging by what Fury's told me himself, he doesn't trust Pierce as far as he can throw him." This much was true; as much as she hated to place any sort of faith in Fury, she knew that he wasn't a snake, like Alexander Pierce. Steve paused for a moment, before opening his mouth again. "Natasha is better with technology—anyone would be better than the two of us—but I suppose we're just going to have to figure this out old school."

He was right; the both of them had been the two out of time, were not accustomed to the modern world as the rest of their team mates. But Katniss had spent a great deal of time with Tony, and she had picked up quite a few tricks along the way. A smirk began to settle across her lips as she pushed her plate away from her, leaning back in the chair. "Not necessarily," she hummed satisfactorily. Steve's eyebrows rose in confusion, as she thought to herself,  _this should be good._

* * *

"I'm telling you, this is a terrible idea," Steve warned, not taking his eyes off of the road. Katniss groaned, rolling her eyes as her head lolled back against the headrest of the passenger seat. Steve had been complaining since she'd presented the plan, but she knew that somewhere within him, he agreed with her. Otherwise, he wouldn't have hopped behind the wheel and left the cabin, against pretty much all of Natasha's wishes from the get-go. She didn't have to see the guidelines of Inferno to know she was breaking the rules.

"And I'm telling you, this is our only decent option," she argued. "Neither of us know step one to hacking into unauthorized, encrypted files, and it's not like we can just call up Natasha or Tony or Clint for an over-the-phone tutorial. We're left to our devices, and so far, this is the only one that's presented itself possible of actually working."

"Yes, and it's also a surefire way of getting us killed."

"Only if we get caught."

"Which we probably will."

"Relax, Rogers, we'll be fine."

"You really are your mother's child, you know."

The plan seemed pretty simple when Katniss had first come up with it. The two of them would make their way to the nearest mall, where there would be some sort of electronics store—she didn't have much of a preference, so long as they could access a laptop that wouldn't be traced back to their location. They'd plug in the drive there, mess with it a little themselves, and if they couldn't get it to work, they'd be surrounded by tech experts. She had been formulating the perfect cover story the entire car ride to the mall, as Steve spent the time griping and criticizing every aspect of the plan.

"Look," she finally interrupted, holding up one of her hands in his direction. "Unless you can think of some other genius plan between now and when we get to the mall, we're sticking with this. What do we have to lose?" Steve glared over at her, the look in his eyes almost feral. She slouched back into her seat slightly; trying to avoid the answer he was giving that rhetorical question through his steely glower.

The rest of the car ride was silent, Steve navigating his way to the mall with the directions that his phone was giving him every few feet along the road. He pulled into the parking lot, whipping their truck into the closest parking spot to the front doors. "Hood up," he instructed, pushing his pair of fake glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "If we're going to make our being on the run public knowledge, might as well try to keep our identities as closely reigned in as we can."

Katniss smirked, pulling up the hood on her jacket as she opened the door. "They didn't teach you much at SHIELD training; rule number one of going on the run is not to run. You walk."

Steve was visibly tense as they strode through the mall, in search of a promising store. "My mother is not going to pop out of nowhere," she hissed to him out of the corner of her mouth. "Try not to look as though you're violating the terms of your house arrest."

"Since when did you become the rebellious one?"

"Well, I am the wild card of the team," she pointed out, a jab at the comments she always overheard in reference to herself. Her footsteps were in long strides, Steve clearly having trouble keeping up with the poor excuses of shoes on his feet. Eyes catching sight of a fluorescent apple in the distance, she smiled to herself.

Steve leaned in, tugging on his ball cap to pull it down further over his eyes. "If something happens and we're made—"

" _Relax_ ," she sang. "We aren't going to be made. Natasha's out selling the story that I'm under the sea at the moment, along with the rest of Tony's house. No one's looking for you either, hotshot; you're not exactly Undesirable Number One."

"You say that now," Steve whispered through clenched teeth, hot on Katniss' heels as she rounded through the opened doors to the Apple Store. She stopped in her tracks, eyes scanning across the room as she examined their scope. Her head tilted in the direction of an empty laptop on the far end of a table, somewhere in the middle of the room. He trailed after her like a lost puppy as she sauntered over casually, like there was nothing going on. She found herself surprised at the sheer confidence that oozed from her and how well she was doing under the circumstances. Going undercover almost suited her.

Stopping in front of the computer, she held her hand out in front of Steve's torso. He wordlessly protruded the flash drive from the back pocket of his jeans, placing it in her hand. It was plugged in a second, the lights on the drive illuminating. "See?" she said, gesturing towards it. "Nothing bad has happened so far."

"So far," he reminded her, Katniss rolling her eyes. "SHIELD flash drives can come along with homing programs, you know."

"Then we better not take too long," she replied, beginning to search for any way into the drive's contents. It was encrypted, just as promised, and everything that she learned from Tony about hacking into, well, anything, seemed to backfire on her. Steve stood behind her, peering over her shoulder as she worked if he wasn't glancing over his own shoulder and making sure there weren't any SHIELD agents on his tail.

After a few minutes of fiddling around with it, Katniss sighed as her hands slid off the keyboard. "I can't think of any other way around this AI system, except maybe a tracer, see if we can locate where this is coming from," she said.

"You can pull off something that advanced?" Steve asked the tone in his partially genuine and partially digging on her knowledge of technology. Katniss glanced up at him, scowling.

"Go over there, talk to that guy who keeps staring over here at us and distract him while I figure something out." Steve opened his mouth to protest, but she made it clear that there was no room for debate. He wordlessly made his way over to where the employee eyeing them was standing, striking up a conversation with the man.

There was a pinging noise from her computer a few seconds later, terrifying her slightly as she jumped. Eyes darting over the computer screen, she could see that there was a new transmission coming in, straight from something similar to the drive's programming. Katniss skimmed over the number, recognizing it as the same one that Natasha had used the night before to contact them. As she scanned over the basics, it was evident that its contents were addressed to none other than Captain Rogers. Glancing over at him, still across the room and awkwardly chatting with the Apple employee, Katniss quickly opened it.

_STEVE:  
PROBLEMS IN DC—SECRETARY PIERCE WANTS ANSWERS AND WANTS TO USE KATNISS AS A MEANS OF GETTING THEM. BARTON IS ABOUT TO FLY OFF THE HANDLE AND COMPROMISE THE MISSION. NEED YOU HERE. DON'T TELL KATNISS, LEAVE HER WHERE SHE IS. YOU HAVE TWO HOURS. –BW_

The blood was pounding in Katniss' ears as she read over the transmission once, twice, a third time, trying to make sure she was seeing what she was. Something was wrong in DC, Natasha was contacting them and for some odd reason, she didn't want for Katniss to know about any of it. Katniss was unsure of what that could possible mean. Was she trying to protect her wellbeing? Was she trying to stick to the MIA story? Did it have to do with her? Either way, it was cryptic enough that Katniss knew she had to dig in deeper, despite her mother's wishes.

There, standing at the computer, Katniss made a split second decision, one that she knew was riskier than leaving the safe house and plugging in a flash drive somewhere in public to try and access its contents. This decision would be the one to get her killed; she knew that somewhere in her gut. But she also knew that it was important that she get to the bottom of all the secrets and face all of her problems head on. Hiding didn't do it any good.

Yanking the drive out of its port, she met Steve halfway with shaking hands. "What did you get from the tracer?" he asked, reaching out for the drive. She handed it over, wiping her now sweating palms on the side of her jeans.

"I uh, not much, something happened and it got corrupted, we'll have to try again," she lied. "Look, I need to run to the restroom really quick before we leave, wait here for me?" It was a poor excuse, but she had to break away from Steve as soon as possible. Judging by the look on his face, she could tell that he was getting the impression something was wrong. He nodded, clearly unsure by giving her that answer. She flashed him a quick smile in gratitude, all but running out of the store on him.

She moved as fast as her legs would carry her towards the doors, dialing for a cab on her phone with still trembling fingers. Katniss gave Steve about thirty seconds before he caught on to the fact she was making an escape. So she took a deep breath, pulled the hood up on her head a little bit farther and did her best to blend in with the masses of people weaving their way through the mall. 

 _Now_  she was running.


	12. remember who the real enemy is

Going on the run with only the things she had on her back wasn't an unfamiliar concept for Katniss; for god's sake, the last time she'd done something similar, she'd ambled behind Nick Fury onto a Quinjet and left  _everything_ behind. She only hoped that she wouldn't royally fuck everything over to the point of no return as she bounced her legs anxiously. She'd stretched her legs out across the back seat as comfortably as she possibly could, seeing as how the back of the car in general wasn't spacious in the slightest. The driver had the radio playing softly, some sort of jazz music leaking out over the speakers and infiltrating her thoughts.

It was near impossible to shake the thought of leaving Steve back there at the mall, how compliant he had been and how easy it had been to deceive him. She wondered what he was doing now; if he was still scouring the mall, tracking her right now, making plans to intercept her halfway. God, he had probably already gotten in touch with Natasha. Closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against the seat, she tried her best to formulate some sort of plan when she stormed into DC. At this point, her face was more than likely plastered over every major news outlet thanks to Clint and Natasha, either stating that she was dead or MIA, and if Pierce didn't kill her first, her mother would surely be the first in line.

"Miss, we're about two miles from the DC limit," the driver interrupted, shaking her from her thoughts. Opening her eyes cautiously, she straightened up in the seat. "Is there any place in particular you wish for me to take you?"

Katniss racked her brain, trying to think of where she could go to lay low, at least until she figured out what to do. Steve's apartment was off limits; that would be the first place SHIELD went to investigate and would be so rigged by now that if anyone stepped on the doormat, tactical teams would be waiting on the fire escape. She couldn't think of anywhere else, looking out the window for some sort of ideas. "You can drop me off there," she finally said, pointing at a building on the other side of the road. There was no logic behind it, simply a place to go where she could figure out her next move. She caught sight of the driver's eyebrows creasing together, but he said nothing as he turned the car in the direction of the parking lot.

The fee was astronomical, and Katniss gulped as the card swiped. God only knew that Tony would be pissed almost five hundred bucks were wasted on a car ride to DC.  _Tony._  Right, the last anyone had seen of him, he'd been plummeting into the Pacific Ocean. Her heart gave another pang as she opened the door to the cab, stepping out. It had been nearly three hours since she'd inhaled fresh air, and it was nice. The car's engine revved up as it slowly trucked on back to wherever; Katniss wasn't sure the driver would be too incredibly happy with her, now that he had to go all the way back to New Jersey. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, she began to walk up to the door, grateful for the sight of lights on inside.

Voices floated from somewhere down a hallway as she stepped inside, the smell of furniture polish and something wooden overwhelming her senses. Had she not been able to hear the faint conversations, she would have assumed she was completely alone. The sounds carried her throughout the building, in search of where the voices were coming from and what was transpiring. Her search ended as she came across an open doorway, a small group of people gathered around in folding chairs. Katniss peered in, doing her best to not be seen as she pressed her chest against the framing of the doorway.

"The thing is I think it's getting worse," a woman said from one of the folding chairs, hair hanging in her face, what Katniss recognized as a clear sign of doing her best to draw as little attention to herself as possible. "A cop pulled me over last week, he thought I was drunk. I swerved to miss a plastic bag. I thought it was an IED."

Katniss was unfamiliar with the terminology, but by a quick scope of the room, she determined that these people had to be war veterans. "Some stuff you leave there, other stuff you bring back," the man at the front leaning on the podium explained. Katniss' ears pricked up at the sound of that, her head leaning around the corner just a bit more to get a better look. "It's our job to figure out how to carry it. Is it gonna be in a big suitcase or in a little man-purse? It's up to you."

Without any sort of warning, people began to rise from their chairs. In a split second, her back was pinned against the corner, heart rate spiking. She held her breath, hoping that she hadn't been discovered in the midst of her incredibly obvious drawback. People began to pass her by, some giving her looks and others not even realizing that she was there.

"You don't have to hide or anything, this is open to anyone," came the same voice of the man who had been at the podium from the other side of the doorway. Katniss released hold of her breath, sighing as she peeled her back off the walls. When she came back in to sight, the man was standing in front of her with both arms crossed over his chest, a faint smile on his face. "Who told you about our little parties?"

"I uh, oh, no one," Katniss stammered awkwardly. "Just dropped in, didn't know what I'd be walking into. Sorry for bothering you." Her heart still crashing inside her chest, she turned to walk away, but was stopped almost as soon as she'd turned her back.

"You're not bothering me, Katniss." The sound of her name rolling off this complete stranger's lips terrified her, and she whirled back around in terror. Her eyes were wide, and it felt like her heart had stopped beating altogether. Sure, she had expected her arrival wouldn't go unnoticed, but for it to be picked up on that quick? God, SHIELD really was everywhere. She was already in flight mode, figuring out how she was going to break away from the situation. He caught on quickly to the fact that he had frightened her, and held up his hands in innocence. "Whoa, didn't mean to freak you out or anything. I just, I know Steve, that's all. I'm Sam, Sam Wilson."

Katniss stared at him, puzzled. "Wait," she said, shaking her head. "You know Steve? How?"

"He and I ran the same route a few times," he offered, shrugging. "And besides, he's Steve Rogers. The two of you aren't exactly nobodies." Katniss tilted her head to the side, as if agreeing with him, before Sam started talking again. "Last I heard you two were missing after that explosion at Tony Stark's house."

"It's a long story," she sighed, desperate to get the conversation off the topic of her near death experience. "What is this?"

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, looking over his shoulder at the now-deserted room. "Therapy group for war veterans suffering with PTSD, every Thursday night," he explained.

"Seemed pretty intense."

"We all got the same problems. Guilt, regret."

"Don't I know it," Katniss muttered under her breath. Sam gave her a look, and Katniss shrugged. "Battle of New York kind of did me in."

"It would have anyone," he said, in attempt to reassure her. "I know it's probably not any of my business, but why did you come back to DC? Come back to tell everyone you're alive?"

"The exact opposite, actually," she said. "I have some things I need to take care of without being recognized."

"Well, word of advice with that one—you might not want to show up in public where you know people are." Katniss laughed along with Sam for a moment, relaxing the tense state she'd been in. It fell quiet for a moment between them, Sam opening his mouth to speak again. "I have a spare room if you don't have anywhere to sleep tonight, it’s yours if you want it."

It was a straightforward statement, and Katniss quickly deliberated through all of the options she had. There was going off with this Sam Wilson, who claimed to know Steve, and risk almost everything, or decline his offer and be in an even riskier position. Taking a deep breath and hoping that her gut was right in trusting a complete stranger, she finally gave him a small smile.  _Here goes nothing._

* * *

Sam Wilson proved to be the kind of host Katniss found the most appreciation for, giving her what she needed and then leaving her be. Sleep hadn't come to her any easier than before, but she was able to nestle under the pile of blankets in some comfort as she stared at the ceiling for several hours. Her mind was always awake, and it had been preoccupied with worrying over the adventure that was to come, sneaking inside the Triskelion and finding Natasha.

After a shower and breakfast that Sam had left for her before going on his run, Katniss made the call for another car to drop her off in downtown DC. The adrenaline kept coursing through her veins with every minute that passed, already running on high alert. She had just barely finished scribbling a quick thank-you note on the back of a business card she'd found lying around when the car pulled up, no chances left to turn back and consider what she was doing.

Katniss had never been to the Triskelion, but she knew plenty about it. Through the window of the cab, she was easily able to identify which building it was thanks to the many conversations and discussions on it that she'd had to sit through and listen to, thanks to her parents and Steve. Looking down at her clothes, she realized that she was going to have to get a little more creative if she was going to go unnoticed at the Triskelion.  _The best way to do that, of course, is to blend in._

She had been taught that blending in was hiding in plain sight, so that was exactly what she did. She pushed her way through a few places that she knew would have clothes similar to the standard uniform that she'd worn whenever she was on the Helicarrier or on a SHIELD base. Putting her hair into a ponytail and splashing some cold water on her face in the bathroom of the store that she changed in, she stared herself down in the mirror. "Okay," she whispered to herself. "Now or never."

Sneaking in the Triskelion was proving itself to be a real challenge; sneaking into a government building was complicated enough, but sneaking into an intelligence agency that had eyes on everything was having a death wish.  _Go with the flow, just act like you belong._  Katniss was able to spot a few walkers, making their way in through one of the front doors, and slipped in line with the rest of them with her head down. It was a risky move, walking in the front door of the Triskelion with her hair pulled back and completely exposing her face, but if there was anything that she had learned from her time living with Tony, it was that acting like you were supposed to be there always threw people off the scent. Walking in didn't seem to require any sort of identification or security, which she found incredibly strange, but thanked every lucky star she could think of.

A giant SHIELD eagle stood erect in the middle of the main lobby, Katniss staring up to admire the openness and brightness of the room. Light flooded in from every direction—the glass ceiling was to thank for that.  _Okay,_ she thought.  _You've got less than a minute before a camera picks up on your face or someone announces the obvious. Where are you going to go now?_  Eyes scanning over the space, she tried to locate a stairwell, an empty hallway, something. The sound of her feet moving forward wasn't as silent as she'd hoped the shoes would be, and she bit down on her lip. Being noticed was really starting to worry her, and she needed to get out of that lobby fast.

Like it had appeared out of nowhere, Katniss spotted a door on the opposite end of the lobby, closing slowly. She could see the sign that symbolized it was a stairwell, and smiled to herself. At least she could start figuring out what to do as she hiked up the endless stairwells that the Triskelion had to possess.

The stairwell was a lot darker than the main hub had been, hardly any light coming from the fluorescents overhead. She hesitantly climbed up the first set, peering up to see if anyone was coming, or if there were any cameras. As far as she knew, she was alone. And so she began trekking up each flight of stairs, cautiously looking around the edge each time she reached the top to confirm her solitude there in the stairwell. According to the numbers on the wall, signaling which floor she was on, she had finally reached 21 when she did her routine scan and continued to climb.

A few steps up, she got the unsettling feeling that she wasn't alone. Stopping in the middle of two stairs, she slowly turned around, heart hammering in her chest. There, staring up at her with a sick, twisted smile on his face was none other than Brock Rumlow.

"My my," he muttered, almost crooning at her. "What a sight for sore eyes."

The blood in her veins turning cold, she kept a white knuckled grip on the handrail. "Rumlow," she said in one breath, as if she were gasping for air. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Rumlow replied. "You're supposed to be dead." Katniss was searching her brain for some sort of explanation, but no words were coming. Her tongue seemed like it was made of sawdust. "But yet, here you are."

"I, um—" Katniss said, turning around and starting up the next step. Rumlow clearly wasn't in any mood to let her leave, and his arm jutted out and latched onto hers. She slowly faced him, looking him right in the eye. He could probably feel how hard her heart was beating, as she thought back to what Natasha had said about Rumlow, what felt like years prior when they'd been on the Lemurian Star:  _I wasn't kidding when I said Rumlow's a snake._ She made a move to dart around him, shake his grip off, but she was unsuccessful.

Rumlow seemed incredibly satisfied as he dragged her back down the stairs and through the door onto the twenty-first floor. "Secretary Pierce will be glad to see you."

Katniss felt the panic rising in her throat as Rumlow stalked down the hall with her in tow, all but pushing her inside an elevator at the end of the hall. "Secretary Pierce's office," he said loudly as the doors came together, the lift skyrocketing upwards. The whole ride up, Katniss couldn't help but to beat herself up for making such a stupid decision. Sneaking into the Triskelion to find Natasha was stupid, and now it was going to get her killed, or worse. She felt as though she was going to be sick, her skin crawling as Rumlow continued to eye her from his position next to her. His fingers were digging into her arm, and she knew that if she somehow made it out of this alive, she'd have his fingerprints on his body for days.

Finally, the doors opened, Rumlow pulling her along behind him down the hallway to their final destination. "Rumlow, Brock," he said as they reached the door, a security panel demanding identification.

"Confirmed," the automated voice replied, door unlocking and opening to reveal Pierce's office. Katniss swallowed around the lump in her throat, nauseated.

Rumlow shoved her over the threshold against her will, clearing his throat. "Found you a surprise lurking in the back stairwell," he called out.

Pierce slowly came into view, stepping out of a back room in his office. He stopped in his tracks as he glanced over at Rumlow, realizing who his company was. What appeared to be a half smile settled over his lips, seeming to be genuinely surprised that she was standing in front of him. "What a surprise indeed," he agreed. "Miss Everdeen."

Katniss didn't say anything; she was doing her best to not breathe, out of fear that if she did, she'd throw up. Rumlow jerked her roughly, and she bit down hard on her lip. "Secretary Pierce," she muttered in such a soft voice that she was hardly audible.

Pierce shot Rumlow a reprimanding look. "Rumlow, she's not our prisoner," he scolded. With that, he dropped his grip on her arm, the now freed flesh throbbing at the loss of the pressure. "In fact, you're dismissed; go find the rest of your STRIKE team and get ready to head out for forensic detail." Internally, Katniss sighed at the relief of his departure; Pierce might have been a snake, but if that was the case, Rumlow was a wolf. The two played at entirely different angles, and it was incredibly obvious that he was out to get her.

Katniss watched as Rumlow left the room, feeling like a small weight had been lifted off her shoulders as the door closed to the office. She was then reminded of the problem at hand, and the knot in her stomach returned. "Please, come have a seat. There's a lot I want to talk to you about."

Closing her eyes, she slowly turned back around and walked over to his desk, where an empty chair sat on the opposite end. God, it was almost like he had been expecting her. He gestured for her to sit down, waiting until she had warily sat down before taking a seat himself. "I have to say," he began, folding his hands and resting them on the desk. "All of the stories Clint and Natasha had been feeding me about your disappearance were quite the narrative. Tony Stark at the bottom of the ocean? You unaccounted for? It's almost as if they  _wanted_  to throw everyone off your scent."

Katniss cleared her throat uncomfortably. "As far as I know, Tony is dead," she said stiffly.

One of Pierce's eyebrows lifted. "I never said I didn't believe them, Miss Everdeen. What happened at Mr. Stark's residence was horrible." He paused for a moment, the eerie half smile returning to his face. "But you being missing has obviously since resolved itself, so do enlighten me: where were you and Captain Rogers at?"

 _How in the hell did he know I was with Steve?_  Katniss could feel the fear creeping in and moving down her spine, hairs on the back of her neck beginning to stand up. She still had no idea if Steve had seen Natasha's transmission line since, and she knew that she had to give him any alibi she could. Selling him out would only cause more problems, it seemed. The protective instinct drove into her as she put on the calmest expression she could possibly conjure up. "I wasn't with Steve," she lied through her teeth, attempting to make herself sound believable. "Once the first round of shots was fired, I got the hell out of there, ran as fast in whatever direction wasn't being fired at. Hitched a ride, laid low at a motel for a few days. Steve had been outside when the helicopters showed up; guess he hopped in one of Tony's cars and took off." The minute the words came out of her mouth she regretted it; now they'd be on the hunt for one of Tony's cars.  _Well, now I know why we switched out back there in the middle of nowhere._

Pierce nodded, seeming to buy the story. "So you haven't been in contact with Captain Rogers since? Not even once?"

"No offense, Secretary, but what would it matter if I had?" Katniss found herself snapping at him.

Both of his hands unclasped, facing palms out at her; his way of showing innocence. She knew that he'd figured out that he'd tapped a nerve. "No reason, I just knew that the two of you had been rather close at one point."

"One point," she corrected coolly. "Not now."

It didn't take long for Pierce to move on with the conversation, just as eager as she was to drop the Steve discussion. "I take it you’ve heard about Director Fury's death," he said awkwardly, a strain in his voice. Katniss simply nodded. "We've been attempting to adjust around here, what with finding out who did it and making sure they receive a punishment that seems fit."

"Understood."

"I have to ask you, Miss Everdeen—and please don't take any offense with this, but, you wouldn't have happened to have been told anything by Romanoff or Barton about his death?"

Katniss' eyebrows furrowed. "I'm sorry?"

Pierce shrugged. "I've talked to your parents several times, and the both of them claim they know nothing. All they want to do is lead the investigation. I do assume you've kept in touch with your mother since the two of you were separated?"

"Like I said, when the house was attacked, everything that I took with me was on my back. I didn't have a cell phone or any sort of communication on me and if someone was trying to target us, I figured trying to get in touch with her was putting the both of us in even more danger. It's why they filed me as missing; no one could get in touch with me."

She tried to pin down the look on his face and determine what he was thinking. He surely hadn't expected for her to stick to a story like that, or maybe he had. Finally, he broke the silence. "You know," he mused, his thoughts derailing already to something off topic. "You would have done excellent in espionage. It's a shame you chose to stay a consultant."

Katniss swallowed. "I take after my mother."

"That you do." He paused, opening his mouth a few moments later. "I haven't yet talked to Natasha, but it seems that Fury sent her on a wild goose chase for a Trojan horse." There it was, what he was  _really_  looking to talk to her about. He didn't care about her being missing; he didn't care about her or Steve or her parents or Tony. He didn't care about Fury's death, all he cared about was that drive and Project Insight. It made him awfully suspicious, but she kept her observations to herself. Instead, she pretended to be amused by the new information.

"Trojan horse?" she asked nonchalantly.

"The drive you handed over to us was a Trojan horse; any and all data on the drive corrupted and wiped out."

"That's unfortunate," she replied softly, the unintentional sarcasm dripping off her voice.

"I find it incredibly odd that Nick Fury died right after the drive turned back up in our possession, makes me think someone knew about him sending Agent Romanoff to fetch a drive and put a virus on it."

Katniss straightened up in her seat, catching on to what she was doing. He was blaming Natasha, blaming the one person who seemed to have faith in Nick Fury when no one else did for sending him straight to his death. "I'm sorry," she interrupted icily. "Are you insinuating that Natasha's the one who's playing double agent?"

"Not at all—"

"She's not responsible, neither am I. Or anyone else on the team for that matter, so if you're looking from answers from any of us, you're not going to get them. We're the ones who are being shot at, remember?"

"Right, of course. I didn't mean to offend you, Miss Everdeen, I'm sorry if I did. I'm just trying to figure out who killed my friend in the name of getting intel on Insight." Katniss nodded, swallowing down any other rogue comments that were on their way up. Pierce gestured towards the door with the nod of his head. "You're free to go, Miss Everdeen. And don't worry, your little visit will stay between us," he reassured.

She rose from her seat, and got the hell out of there.

All but running down the hallway, she flung open the door to where the stairwell was and started taking the stairs two at a time on the way down. Her heart was crashing inside her chest and hands shaking as she held onto the rail as she ran down, hoping that it would steady the inevitable fall in her near future. The running down stairs began to catch up with her about the time she reached the fifty-second floor, slowing her pace. Breathing heavier, she stopped when she reached the giant fifty one and took a moment to rest. Back leaning up against the door to the stairwell, she closed her eyes and tried to regulate her heart beat. She had made such a huge mistake, walking into the Triskelion, risking everything. Pierce knew she was alive; everything that Clint and Natasha had done to protect her had gone to waste. She could taste the bile in her throat, wincing.

Her moment of peace didn't last long as the door was yanked out from behind her. Startled, she went to catch herself from falling, but someone else did that for her. She panicked, assuming the worst. Rumlow had come back for her. Pierce had ordered for her to be taken care of. A hand clamped down over her mouth and the person began to drag her through a hallway. She struggled as they peeled their hand off her mouth, grasping down on her other arm before pushing her through a partially opened door. The room they were in was dark, and she was still reeling as the sound of the door shutting was followed by the light coming on.

Clint was standing over her, livid as he pushed her back against the wall of the small little closet they were in. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he growled. "You're supposed to be in New Jersey, you're supposed to be three and a half hours away from this goddamn place!"

"I got the transmission Natasha sent to Steve, said things were going south, I decided to investigate myself," Katniss spat back.

"Transmission…what the hell are you talking about, Katniss?

"Natasha set up an encrypted line with us; she's been using it to get in touch. Steve and I went to go and start working on that drive and it brought in a transmission, saying that she needed Steve in DC," she explained through clenched teeth. Somehow, she was coming off more hostile towards her own father than she had to the actual enemy.

"She wanted Steve then, not you! Do you know what we're trying to do to protect you over here? Do you know that you probably just ruined everything?"

"Don't get mad at me, you  _knew_  from the get go that I'm not going to sit around and just take being in the dark!"

"This isn't taking matters into your own hands, Katniss, this is being suicidal!"

"I thought you were dead!" Clint stared at her for a moment, Katniss trying to catch her breath as she shoved Clint off of her. "When Steve and I left that house, I couldn't even  _see_  you under all the smoke and rubble. I thought you were dead, I didn't even know you were okay until Natasha made that first transmission. So, excuse me for caring."

"You're as stubborn as your damn mother."

"So I hear."

Clint closed his eyes, rubbing at the back of his neck. "So why did I catch you in the stairwell?" he asked, defeated.

"Rumlow found me, whisked me off to Pierce's office. Got the grand interrogation about Fury's death."

"Pierce knows you're alive then," Clint repeated dumbly.

"Sorry to ruin all the efforts."

Clint laughed bitterly. "Sorry? You just ruined hours and hours of us trying to convince him that you were dead, missing at the least. You just put all of us; yourself, me, your mother, Steve, Tony if he's still out there, back in danger. You should have just stayed in New Jersey, cracked the drive like a good little soldier—"

Katniss stepped back, appalled. "A good little soldier? Remember what happened the last time someone took me for a good little soldier?" She feigned not to know the answer, before giving him a knowing glare. "Oh, that's right. You wouldn't remember. You were the one who was playing a good little soldier,  _blowing up the goddamn Helicarrier_ —"

There was a crackle from somewhere in the room, the sound of Steve's voice quietly coming in from what had to be Clint's comm. It had to be at full volume, what with the clarity of the sound from where she was standing. "Barton, do you have her?" Katniss winced at the way he said 'her'; he was definitely agitated.

Clint never broke the steely glare he was shooting her. "Yeah, I have her."

"Good—"

"Get her out of there, it's a trap!" interrupted another voice, this one much more urgent. Katniss' eyebrows knitted together as she looked up at Clint.

"Natasha," she confirmed, grateful to hear her voice even when it was saying spine-chilling words like that.

Her mother's voice was rushed, words falling out of her mouth and into the comm. "He knew, Clint, he fucking knew she was alive the whole time!"

"He? Who's he? What is she talking about?" Katniss hissed, only to be greeted with Clint's hand silencing her. She ground her teeth together in frustration, resorting back to listening to Natasha and Steve over the comm.

"Natasha, what do you mean that he knew she was alive?" Steve asked, verbalizing one of the many questions Katniss now had bouncing around inside her head.

"I never sent that transmission you said I did, it was him—it was Pierce the whole time! The minute she plugged in that drive, it booted up the homing program and SHIELD knew exactly where they were. Think about it; who would be monitoring any information to come off Insight like a damn hawk? Who's been asking for her the whole time, who  _knew_ that she had the drive to begin with, because he was the one who sent for it once it came in her possession?"

"Pierce is the one who sent that transmission," Katniss muttered out in horror, Steve saying the same words over the comm link.

"He knew she was online, he knew that she would be the one to see it because he’s gone off the hunch that Tony taught her a few thing and that Steve’s still incompetent with today’s technology that he’d have her take the lead, and he sent that transmission to lure her here."

"But why?"

"Because this was the plan the whole time," Natasha muttered hollowly. "He didn’t just want to use her to distract people, he’s distracting her from herself so he can get what he wants. He knows she cracked Fury like a nut before New York, he knows she’s smart and if he’s not careful, she’ll figure things out. It’s why he knew the drive trick would work. He’s keeping her distracted by making her think she’s the one doing all the distractions; between Fury and Tony and the rest of us, he can turn her exactly where he wants her if he succeeds. And once he gets what he wants, he’s blown a hole in her and he can put her back together how he wants, get her to march right into battle. He knows she’s a fighter, so did Fury. Pierce is just stealing pages from his playbook."

"So what are you trying to say?" Clint said into the comm.

"I'm saying that Pierce doesn’t care anything about the Avengers and who we are, he’s getting rid of whoever’s in his way and—"

"You think he killed Fury and Tony both," Steve cut in, and Katniss felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up straight, chills coursing down her spine.

"Right now it doesn't matter what I think, you need to get her and get the hell back to the safe house,  _now."_

Clint didn't say anything, just wordlessly grabbed Katniss' arm and opened the closet door. She was confused, trying to stop him and ask him what the hell he was doing as he ushered her out and down the hallway. "Shh," he snapped. "I'm getting you out of here."

Moving down the hallway rapidly, Clint lead her to what she assumed was the elevator once more. She watched on in confusion as he began to type rapidly into the wall panel, a set of elevator doors opening on the other side of the actual elevator. Katniss stared at it, baffled. "It's an attachment to the main elevator, but it's completely hidden. You'll be able to see or hear anyone that steps on, but they won't know you're in there. It'll take you to ground floor; Steve will be down there waiting to get you out.

"Clint, I—" Katniss started to apologize as she found herself being shepherded into the elevator, Clint reaching in to press the starred button.

"Stay with him," he warned. "Don't trust anyone." The elevator doors closed right as the 'I love you' bubbled on her lips. Katniss let out an aggravated sigh, the tears pricking her eyes as she slammed her fists against the wall of the now moving elevator. She was angry mostly with herself and how she'd reacted to Clint. He had only been trying to help. And instead, she'd caused the list of people who were mad at her to grow.

She was surprised that the elevator came to a halt when it did, because she knew that she hadn't been in there quite that long. She watched as Steve stepped into the other box, her eyes widening. Beginning to bang on the wall as he started to give his destination out, she caught his attention only for a brief second as more people stepped on. His eyes left the wall to greet none other than Rumlow and another two STRIKE agents, Katniss' blood running cold. This couldn't end well.

The elevator continued to make more stops on the way down, Steve giving the box where she was occasional glances as more and more agents kept stepping on board. The elevator was full by the fifth stop, her hardly able to keep her eyes on Steve in the middle of all the people. She watched on in slight puzzlement as some of them kept acting suspicious, hands twitching over weapons or the sweat rolling down her forehead.

One of the agents standing closest to the wall pulled an electric rod from his pocket, turning it on, and Katniss felt her eyes go wide. "Steve!" she screamed as the agent, like every other in the elevator lunged straight for him. It was no use, as he couldn't hear her screams on the other side. The elevator lurched at a sickening stop and go as one of them tried to kick the emergency brake, but didn't deliver quite a hard enough blow.

Katniss could only watch on in horror as they tried to shock Steve with the electric rods they were all equipped with, magnetic cuffs pinning him to the wall of the elevator. She banged against the walls, screaming for them to stop as the tears started to run down her cheeks. Her voice was scratchy as she did everything she could possibly think of to get them to stop hurting him, to let him go. It was almost like they knew she was there, doing it to torture her, to break her.

Steve managed to break free of the one of the cuffs and kick a few more men down, right as Rumlow delivered an electrical shock to his torso. After recovering from the initial shock, Steve freed himself from the other cuff and knocked out a few more men. Rumlow was still standing, his back to Katniss. For a moment, she made eye contact with Steve through the barrier as Rumlow charged up his electric rod, trying to jab it back into Steve once more. It didn't take long for it to backfire, Steve knocking him out with the shield.

Bouncing off the walls and shattering the camera inside the elevator, the shield managed to deliver a small crack in the box that Katniss was in, Steve realizing almost instantly. "Katniss, come on, please be in here," he whispered as he took the shield and slammed it against the glass. Katniss turned her face away as she realized what she was going, glass falling all around her. Looking back up, she was treated with the sight of the actual Steve and not the mirror image.

The elevator gave a small ping, signaling the doors opening. The both of them were treated to the sight of full tactical teams storming down the hallways, and Steve all but pushed her back in the box so they couldn't fully see her. "Drop the shield!" she could hear them yelling. "Put your hands in the air!"

Katniss watched as Steve threw the shield, cutting elevator wires and sending them straight down at lightning speed. She threw her arms out, trying to brace herself there in the decoy elevator as best she could without getting stabbed in the hand or arm with a shard of glass. Steve seemed to be doing the same thing, the elevator coming to a stuttering halt in between floors. She cautiously stepped over the pile of glass, out into the main elevator over several unconscious bodies. Steve was prying the bottom of the doors open, the sight of more feet storming their way. "Damn," he muttered under his breath.

"Give it up, Rogers! Get the door open; you have nowhere to go!"

Steve turned to face Katniss. "Do you trust me?" he asked softly.

"What?"

"Do you trust me?"

She had no time to answer before Steve wrapped her up into him, pressing the shield in front of her body. He all but picked her up before running head on at the glass wall of the elevator, Katniss burying her face in his chest as the glass shattered around them. The wind whipped around them, gravity dragging them right back down to earth. Had the circumstances been different, Katniss could have said the experience was exhilarating, but that was before they plummeted right through that same glass ceiling she'd admired only hours before her arrival and hit the ground with a thud.

Still curled up against the shield, Katniss let out a groan as she rolled over, looking for Steve. At the last second he had moved off of her, so he wouldn't crush her in the process. "Steve," she whispered out, moving her legs to make sure they still worked as she sat up. "Steve, come on."

It took a moment, but Steve finally got up, reaching for her hand and pulling her up. "Come on," he repeated, leading her off to god only knew where.

They ended up in the garage, Steve finding a motorcycle that he likely used commonly while in DC, judging by how fast he mounted it. "Get on," he shouted. "They're closing the bridge!" Moving almost like a robot, she clambered onto the back of the motorcycle and wrapped her arms around his waist as the engine came alive. It felt routine to her; hopping onto the back of his motorcycle wasn't something she'd done in quite a while, but it took no time to settle back into that grove.

While the gates didn't quite close on them as they jumped the spikes closing in, there was a Quinjet waiting on them outside on the runway. Katniss buried her face in Steve's back as the motorcycle swerved, dodging shots from the automatic guns attached onto the jet. She didn't want to have to stare death in the face. She could feel his arm reaching behind, peeling the shield out from underneath her chest and throwing it at the jet more than likely. The sounds of engines exploding followed shortly after, the ground shaking as the destroyed Quinjet hit the runway behind them. Katniss looked over her shoulder at the destruction, her heart racing at an uncomfortably fast pace.

Somehow, she and Steve had managed to escape. As they made their way around the giant spikes over the bridge, she could hear the beeping of her cell phone in her pocket. She pulled it out carefully, surprised to see a message from an automated transmission. She couldn't help but to find that ironic, seeing as how she was probably the last person on the list for receiving any sort of SHIELD-affiliated messages, since they wanted to kill her and her entire team.

**_SHIELD AUTOMATED TRANSMISSION 893213:_ ** _KATNISS ROMANOFF-BARTON DEATH CONFIRMED. AGENTS BARTON AND ROMANOFF ARE TO NOW BE CONSIDERED AS SHIELD FUGITIVES FOR WITHHOLDING INFORMATION IN REGARDS TO DEATH, AS WELL AS CAPTAIN ROGERS IN ASSOCIATION WITH DEATH OF ROMANOFF-BARTON AND TONY STARK._

So not only had she made things worse, she'd made them beyond repairable.


	13. friction

"Clint, keep up," Natasha hissed out of the corner of her mouth. It took everything in Clint to hold back the snarky comments that were bubbling on the tip of his tongue. No one held a candle to her ability to slide under the radar, but damn if she didn't move like fires were setting underneath her feet the longer they stayed put. Natasha was a firm believer of walking, not running, even though her idea of walking was more of a jog.

"Woman, if you walk any faster, these cheap ass shoes will fall off my feet," he responded through his gritted teeth.

"If it gets you to move faster, then by all means." It was evident that she was in a bad mood, and Clint wasn't walking on a ray of sunshine either. Katniss' showing up at the Triskelion had blown up in their faces in magnitudes they hadn't predicted. To put it in the simplest of terms, shit had hit the fan and there was no undoing the damage. Now everyone believed she was dead, Clint and Natasha were on the run for holding back knowledge, and Steve was grand suspect number one.  _As if things couldn't get any more complicated,_  he thought to himself.

Natasha's high speed beeline dumped them out at the Apple Store, teeming with people. Leave it to Natasha to pick the most popular store in the mall to run her little investigation. The drive seemed to weigh a thousand pounds in the pocket of his coat as she pinpointed a computer on the far end of a table, left alone. "Over there, come on," she nudged.

Hacking was her specialty, and there was no denying that fact, so Clint stood back and let her work her magic. The two of them worked in tandem; almost as systematic and fluid as a clock ticks, him handing her the drive wordlessly right as her hand outstretched in request for it. "The drive's got a level six homing program," she noted quietly. "So the second we boot up, Big Brother will know where we are."

"Nine minutes?" Clint replied, eyes scanning over the store to make sure that they were still in the clear.

Natasha nodded. "From right about…now," she said, pushing the drive into the USB slot and watching the edges light up. Clint, who had his arm propped up on the edge of the table, leaned his head back down so his attention was focused on the monitor of the laptop. A familiar access screen appeared, and Clint watched on silently as Natasha's fingers flew across the keyboard, typing in every command she could think of. She bit down on the edge of her bottom lip ever-so-slightly, unnoticeable to anyone that wasn't Clint, who knew her ticks inside and out.

"Well, one thing is certain," she observed, the tone in her voice somewhat frustrated. "Fury was right about that ship. Someone's trying to hide something; there's some sort of AI protecting the drive, keeps rewriting itself to counter all my commands."

"Are we thinking Pierce?"

She shrugged at Clint's suggestion. "Maybe, it would take at least a level eight to develop it without any kind of hitches, much less pull it off. The person who developed this is slightly smarter than I am."

Clint snorted amusedly. "Yeah, slightly." He fell silent, coughing awkwardly as she shot him a look. "Uh—um, yeah, carry on," he stammered out nervously, Natasha's fingers resuming their flight over the keys at a rapid pace. Their nine minutes was running out; chances were, the STRIKE team was already combing through the far end of the mall. It was then that Clint couldn't help but to let the smug smile forming on his lips spread out. Natasha always had her reasons, even when it came to picking a store smack in the middle of the mall, the least obvious place to look for someone who was in a hurry to get out of there.

"Tracer's our last option," she finally broke the silence between them, nodding towards the drive. "If it was developed to track malware, then maybe we can find out where it came from as opposed to reading it."

"Can I help you with anything?" came the addition of a new and irritatingly perkier voice to their mix, Clint and Natasha both looking up in synchronization to see who their newfound company was. Standing in front of them was a cheerfully-grinning Apple employee with hair longer than Natasha's, waiting for his answer.

The fakest smile Clint had ever seen Natasha break out into appeared on her face as she waved it off nonchalantly. "Oh, no," she insisted, draping her arms around Clint's shoulder and giving him a small hug. Sure, the two of them had gone undercover numerous times as a couple, but never had it been this impromptu. It almost broke their cover, what with the nanosecond flash of confusion that had to have flashed over his face. "My fiancé and I were just looking at some honeymoon destinations."

"Right," Clint went along with it, shooting the man a half-smile. "We're getting married."

The Apple employee nodded in agreement, glancing over at Natasha as if he was applauding Clint on his taste in women. It took everything for him to fight back the eye roll or the snap of a response to back off. "Congratulations," the employee expressed, nodding in the direction of the computer. "Where you guys thinking about going?"

There was a beep from the computer, notifying that the tracer had picked up where the signal was coming from. Clint glanced over to see what Natasha had pulled up with, and much to his irritation, so did their company. "Ah, New Jersey," Clint said, reading off of the location's name that had popped up.

"Oh," the employee said, pausing to take a sweeping glance at Clint. Clint did his best to remain still; it was like this kid was staring long and hard for a reason, as if he knew them or something, and he couldn't take any chances with blowing cover. God only knew if they had to start running, he'd be their downfall thanks to the cheap shoes Natasha had thrust upon him.

Finally, after the long awkward pause, the kid spoke up again. "I have the exact same glasses," he pointed out, and Clint felt the relief wash through his body.

"Wow, you two are practically twins," Natasha commented dryly from behind them, still typing away on the computer.

"Yeah, I wish; specimen," the employee said, pausing after he sensed the awkwardness beginning to settle back in. "Uh, well, if you guys need anything, I've been Aaron."

"Thanks," Natasha all but sang as Aaron finally parted ways with them.

"Nine minutes, Tasha, come on now," Clint coaxed urgently, starting to scan back over their surroundings in search of a tac-team in hot pursuit. Natasha chuckled behind him.

"Shhh, relax," she responded. "Got it." He watched as she produced the cell phone from her pocket and began to dial in a number.

"Who the hell are you calling?" he hissed, to which she held up a finger in an effort to silence him.

"Rogers," she addressed the person on the other end of the phone, and Clint felt clued in enough to no longer pay direct attention to the conversation. "Where are you…well, we got a location from the drive; Wheaton, New Jersey. You know it? No, take a breather, she'll need time…no, don't, we can…alright. Alright. Talk soon. Lay low. And Steve? Don't tear her to pieces for what she did. You know you would have done the same thing." Natasha hung up the phone, jamming it into her pocket, flash drive following suit.

"You're giving advice to Rogers now?" Clint asked as Natasha quickly wiped down any last evidence of them being there.

"Judging by the fight you two had earlier, I don't think she needs anyone else coming down on her like the hand of God."

Clint fell silent for a moment as he followed her out of the store, trying to keep up with her rapid pace. After a brief moment of silence, he piped back up. "Honeymoon? Fiancé? When was the last time you used that excuse?" he teased.

"I could have said that you were my uncle, I'm sure people would believe that one over the fiancé trick. You're much too old to be marrying me," she retorted, coming right back at him almost instantly. He rolled his eyes.

"Tash, we're already married, you can't ever get rid of me."

"Watch it, Barton, or I'll make sure you never know what a honeymoon is actually supposed to be like," she warned, a jab at his half-assed attempt at setting up what he had intended to be a honeymoon but ended up requiring an extraction team to haul their asses out of gunfire.

"Shut up and put your arm around me, fiancé."

* * *

 _Home sweet home_ , Katniss thought bitterly as their car passed the sign that indicated their now being in the wonderful state of New Jersey. Steve was eerily silent in the passenger seat of the truck that they'd borrowed without permission (Tony's way of looking at stealing, as opposed to calling it stealing) after crossing into Maryland; he had been the whole ride. Sure, he had been remotely civil as they made it out of the Triskelion, but the minute they had the place long behind them, Steve had shut down. There was no conversation, no acknowledgement; there wasn't even the filler in the quietness of the radio playing softly in the background. It was complete and utter silence.

In truth, she knew that she had screwed up big time. She kept trying to elude herself into thinking that somewhere, he was at fault, but just like always, Steve Rogers was as clean as a whistle. She had been the one stupid enough to waltz right back into the trap Alexander Pierce had set for her, and she'd watched as everything turned on her and exploded right in her face. There was only one good thing that could have come out of an encounter like that, and it was that she wasn't scared of Pierce anymore.

No, being afraid of him was the last thing she felt towards him. Something had snapped inside of her when she'd been subjected to all the relentless questioning, Pierce's own way of getting her to betray her family and her teammates or sell them out, one. Katniss had finally gotten it, that he was more afraid of her and what she had the power to do than she was afraid of him. Everyone talking about how she was the game piece, how she had the potential to destroy the team apart from the inside out, it all made sense. She was the detrimental piece to the puzzle, she was the wild card, the secret weapon, all of that. Now the question to figure out was what made her so important? Was it her temper? Or was it her connections, being the child of an assassin and a master archer with the skill and mindset to prove that? Sinking lower into her seat and stretching her feet out onto the dashboard, she enveloped herself in thought.

Katniss was jolted by the sound of the phone ringing, trying to pinpoint where the noise was coming from. Steve pulled the phone out of the cup holder, the obvious place to put it, bringing it up to his ear. Katniss leaned in, an attempt at hearing the other side of the conversation. "Natasha? Uh, yeah, we just crossed over into Jersey…yeah, I have a few ideas, do you want us to head out now?" There was a pause, Katniss straining to hear. "She can handle it," he insisted, shaking his head. "Well, we're already en route to the safe house, does that work? Alright. Alright. I, uh, yeah, okay. Bye."

Perking up a little bit, Katniss straightened herself up in the seat. "What did she want?" she asked, almost timidly, like she was afraid of the answer she would get.

Steve didn't even bother with looking over in her direction. "Take your feet off the dash," he pointed out. "We're borrowing." Kinking an eyebrow in his direction, she slowly took her feet off of the dash, sitting up even taller than before.

"Are we heading back to the safe house?" she tried, knowing the answer to the question already. She was genuinely curious to see what Steve's response would be. And, to no surprise, he gave no response, which was just as she'd expected.

Her temper flared inside of her, biting down on her tongue to suppress all of the raging comments racing through her mind. Her getting over the fear of Pierce seemed to have had a more widespread effect—the power of not taking any shit. Yes, it had all been her fault. Yes, she'd lied to him and nearly gotten the two of them killed. Yes, she  _kind of_  deserved the silent treatment. But they were two state lines past the mess at the Triskelion and if they were actually going to get somewhere with figuring anything out, he had to communicate with her. She found herself yearning for the music at that point.

The truck began to go off route, Steve swinging them into what appeared to be a gas station and convenient store. Katniss could feel the sigh building in her throat; more pit stops meant more time in Steve's uncomfortable company. She was just ready to be back at that godforsaken safe house. Steve pulled the truck up next to a gas pump, putting the car into park. Giving the whole conversation thing another shot, she opened her mouth. "I'm uh, going to go get a snack, do you want me to get you anything?" she asked. Instead of a response, Steve climbed out of the truck and shut the door.

"Guess not then," she muttered under her breath as she grabbed his wallet out of the cup holder and opened the passenger side door.

The convenient store was deserted for the most part, give or take a few straggling customers who were perusing the aisles. She stalked down one of the aisles, littered with boxes of brightly packaged candy and bags of chips, trying to determine what she really had a craving for. Truth be told, she didn't have an appetite for hardly anything that was in front of her, but she knew that if she didn't get something now, Steve might get the idea of letting her starve.  _He's not going to treat you like you're his pet dog or something. Besides, if anyone would starve, it would be him. You can hunt._  Grabbing a bag of chips and a pack of gum on a whim, she wasted no more time with her inner thoughts and made her way up to the register. The sooner she paid, the sooner she'd be able to escape Steve's presence.

There was a fairly short line, and Steve had joined her inside before she could make any sort of protest. She wanted to ask if he was playing bodyguard or if he was simply doing this to get underneath her skin, but she knew what sort of response she'd get if she asked him. He didn't wait long before grabbing her wrist and pulling her out of line and leading her off down one of the aisles.

Every second that went by, the more intense the crawling sensation underneath her skin got. He wasn't talking, there was no explanation as to why he'd pulled her out of line or was walking her through an aisle like she was his child. She felt like she was trembling with anxiousness, about to explode on Steve. Katniss knew that she couldn't keep biting her lip, she had to say something. Stopping in the middle of her tracks, she waited for him to stop and tug her along before she looked up at him, releasing her tongue without a second thought. "Did you forget how to speak or something?" she snapped bitterly.

Steve looked down at her for a brief second, still not saying anything. Katniss felt her anger spike again. "Well?" she prompted. "Are you going to answer me?"

"You're causing a scene," he finally uttered out through clench teeth.

"I'm causing a scene?" Katniss retorted, appalled. "I'm just getting started."

"Look," Steve hissed, leaning down to where she was. "You don't have the right to be angry with anyone. You are the one who snuck off and got everyone into this mess, there's no one here to blame but yourself."

"And you don't think I know that? I'm not stupid Steve, I'm fully aware that the things I do have consequences."

He seemed rather surprised when she said that, his eyes growing wider. "Are you now? I'm beginning to think that if you did, you wouldn't have been stupid enough to race off to DC at the drop of a hat."

"And I'm beginning to think I liked you a whole lot better when you were giving me the silent treatment. I thought Captain America was supposed to be a good man, not a bitch of a number that complains all the time."

"Not everyone wants to spend their time chasing after you, you know!"

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have cared too much about me, then you wouldn't be my designated babysitter in the contingency plan you all decided to come up with!"

"Maybe you shouldn't have decided to be a five-foot-three ball of reckless abandon!"

"I'm terribly sorry,  _mother_ , I'll be sure to take your pointless opinions on me into consideration next time."

It was clear that Katniss had gotten him riled up—the glowering in his eyes was enough explanation for that one. She was waiting for his response, fueling herself off of their argument, and was disappointed to see that he'd somehow distracted himself once again by staring at the man behind the register. "Steve," she snapped, thoroughly agitated that he'd decided to start ignoring her in the midst of what was an argument but communication nonetheless. "Steve!"

"Shh," he shushed almost instantly. "People are staring; you're going to blow our cover."

"That's never really stopped you before," she spat.

Steve rolled his eyes, pulling her in closer to him and causing her to drop the things she was holding. Katniss didn't react too well to his sudden gesture, and did her best to squirm out of his grasp. He was clearly paying way too much attention to the grand total of five people that were standing in the store with them, absorbed in the quick assumptions they were forming.  _Should have thought of this earlier when he didn't want to talk at all._  "Katniss," he urged again, this time his voice more sincere. He didn't sound angry, but rather, concerned.

"Steve," she mimicked him. "Let me go."

"You know, I never took Captain America to be a hypocrite; at least I stand by the shit I do. All you do is preach one thing, do the other—"

"—Katniss, shut  _up_."

"—everything I did was to protect someone else, and all you're doing is looking out for your-fucking-self,  _Steven_ —"

There was no time left to think about anything before Katniss found her mouth being occupied in an insanely different way. Steve had grabbed her face, both hands cupping her cheeks as he brought her lips up to his. His lips crashed against hers in a delicate but eager fashion, his bottom lip keeping hers captive in what she assumed was his tactic of shutting her up.  _Hell, it worked._  A familiar strike of electricity raced down her spine as he continued to kiss her, Katniss shocking even herself as her hands instinctively moved to the edges of his waist. It had been two years since she'd last kissed him, and she had almost forgotten that feeling. It all came flooding back to her as he moved his lips against hers, the comfort of the moment and the near perfect way that the two of them once worked slipping right back into place. The kiss seemed to carry on, time travelling around them so slowly that each second lasted a year. For a moment, she closed her eyes and tried to make some sense out of what was going on and what she was feeling, but she hardly had a moment to process.

His lips parted from hers in what seemed like a slow manner, his eyes dark and his lips swollen as he stared at her. "Come on, we have to go," he whispered after a pause that lasted an eternity, grabbing onto her wrist. He ushered them out of the convenient store without a word, and wasted no time in loading back up in the truck before pulling off.

It took Katniss everything in her not to reach up and feel her own lips with her trembling fingers, in a vain attempt to stop the tingling.


	14. gilded

The entire ride back to the safe house, Katniss' lips were tingling. Or so they felt like they were, anyways; Steve's  _incredibly_  effective method of shutting her up had done more than that, it had stripped her from her voice completely. He still wasn't in any rush to resume conversation with her. If anything, their little fighting match in the convenience store had given him even more of a reason to ignore her very existence. Fortunately, this time around she was grateful for the silence, what with her ears ringing and her mind tangling herself up in thought.

It had been years since either of them had been in that close of proximity, save for the times they were attempting to kill the other, and it had brought an entire flood of feelings that she'd suppressed a long time ago crashing back to the surface. She hated Steve. That was what she knew, that was what was safest, that was what ensured the least amount of crushed feelings and didn't require effort. Sure, she had been warming up to his company thanks to the ridiculous contingency plan in place, but it hadn't changed her feelings on him any. It was easier if she was indifferent towards him; if she'd learned anything during her time living with Tony, it was that being alone took away the pressure of disappointing people or letting them down. Granted, she'd royally fucked up back at the Triskelion, but she didn't owe anything to Steve. At least, that's what she thought. Now that he'd gone and kissed her, she didn't know much of anything, except for the fact that she was confused.

Glancing over at him and seeing the stoic expression on his face, it was all too easy for Katniss to conclude that it didn't mean anything beyond an efficient tactic of getting her to quit causing a scene.

She had been eternally grateful when the truck began to stir up dust from the driveway that lead to the safe house, not realizing just how eager she was to get out of the truck and escape Steve's presence. The longer she sat within feet of him, the more twisting and turning her mind did around the kiss and Steve, and Katniss was suffocating underneath it all.

The minute he put the truck in park, she all but kicked the door open and sprang out of her seat, beelining towards the front door. Fresh air filling her lungs and the evening sun hitting her skin, Katniss was in no hurry to admire her surroundings. She wanted to get inside, hole up in her room and not emerge unless the house had caught fire.

Once inside, she slammed the door shut behind her casually, kicking her shoes off by the couch and starting the journey upstairs. She could feel the weariness coursing through her veins as she made her way up the stairs, especially in her legs. Running up and down several stories of stairwells, jumping from elevators at astronomical heights, and acting like the fugitive she felt like was enough to tire anyone, and the fact that her legs worked about as well as an elderly woman's only contributed to the steadily spreading soreness. Katniss felt like the Tin-Man walking up the stairs, moving rigidly and awkwardly up the stairs and praying to every god she could think of that Steve was still outside or far, far out of sight, unable to see this. She didn't need to appear helpless, or that she was in more and more pain with every step she climbed, legs locking up.

She'd never been so happy to see the twin-sized bed and flat bed-pillow on the other side of the door as she opened it, that joy fading almost instantly when her eyes fell upon the small box sitting on her bed. A variety of things rushed through her head, but the only thing that she could think of was that they'd been found. Paralyzed with fear, her mind went straight to worst case scenario. Inside that box had to be a bomb, or some sort of deadly weapon meant to kill her, courtesy of SHIELD and Pierce himself.

"St…S-Steve," she choked out, her mouth moving faster than her brain had time to catch up. She didn't want to call for Steve's help, truthfully, she didn't want his assistance or his opinion on the matter, but the mind her tongue had seemed to have drawn the conclusion that god forbid she not call for him and then blow the entire house up. Swallowing, she tried to call for him again, a little louder. "Steve…"

He was behind her in a few moments, peering over her shoulder. "What is it?" he inquired, a sharp edge in his voice. He didn't know why he was there, but judging by the way he spoke, he wasn't too keen on the idea itself. Katniss didn't reply, instead gestured in the direction of the box on her bed with the slight nod of her head.

Steve pushed past her, leaving Katniss standing in the doorway with her eyes trained steadily on the box. Panic was moving through her already rigid body, and it wasn't hard to fight the urge to push him out of the way, as she couldn't move at all. Instead, she watched on, holding her breath and hoping that her paranoia was all in her head.

It almost pained her to watch as Steve leant over the bed, examining the box. The scream building up in her throat met the knot that had been forming at the mere thought of SHIELD finding them, unable to find a way out as he picked it up.  _Well, at least it doesn't explode upon touch._  He slowly lifted the lid off of the box, no explosions there either. Not wanting to move from her place by the door, she tried to look around him and see what he was looking at inside of it. "Well?" she asked tentatively.

Steve was still for a moment, adding more questions to her ever growing list, before turning around and thrusting the box into her hands as he stormed past. "Try not to need me," he grumbled underneath his breath. Confused, she twisted around only to see him disappear down the hall and down the stairs.  _Looks like we're back to the whole silent treatment thing_ , she thought.

Pushing the door shut behind her, Katniss padded across the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. The small little box in her hands was lightweight, the lid thrown back on top of it in a lazy manner, courtesy of Steve. She gently pulled the top back off, setting it down beside her as she peered inside. It didn't appear to be much, just a folded up sheet of paper at the top. Katniss picked it up, placing the box in her lap as she unfolded the sheet of paper. An all too familiar chicken scratch glared back up at her, and the shaky exhale she finally let out sounded as though she was on the verge of a sob. One of her hands instinctively moved up to her mouth, fingers trembling over her lips as she read the note even amidst the shaking.

_Kit-Kat,_

_First things first, if you tell anyone I call you Kit-Kat and they get the bright idea to do the same thing or worse, taunt me about it, I'll kill you._

_I'm not sure what's happened with you since the house took a graceful dive into the Pacific Ocean; I mean, I've seen some news footage here and there saying you're missing and some reports saying you're dead–suppose we can thank Red Riding Hood for those attempts, she's good at what she does–but I don't really know what happened to you. I just want to make sure you're alright–or, well, just ask you via this letter. And not get a response. Shit,_ why _do I even try…_

_Point is, I know you've probably heard all kinds of rumors about me (or not, maybe everyone's glad I vanished off the face of the earth) but I wanted to let you know that I'm alright. That sounded better. I’ve made headway in this Mandarin case—Natasha was right about it being a ploy, and please don’t tell her I said she was right, she gets off on it—and I’m putting together the pieces of what’s going on as best I can to figure out who’s behind it. Pierce is at the top of my list, but I’m rounding all my bases before I go there. I'm not in any one place, I'm trying to keep on the move so these SHIELD goons can't pinpoint me. I've been in Tennessee for the past few days (and no, Cinderella's magical little singing birds didn't bring this up to your bedroom, I had an old friend do it for me but don't worry, they're long gone by now and have no plan to report your whereabouts, I don't have a death wish for the Flaming Chariot to slit my throat) and I'll probably be on the move again once I know you got this. Just in case, you know, this is Alexander Pierce reading it. In which case, I'm actually dead at the bottom of the ocean._

_I don't know what you and ol' Stars 'n Stripes are up to; probably nothing because you're too busy despising him or vice versa, but seriously, Katniss, he's trying. He's doing what the rest of us can't and keeping you safe–and don't roll your eyes, saying you don't need protection or work better alone. Everyone needs someone, Katniss, including you. And as much as you hate to admit it, right now he's the only someone you've got. He cares about you a lot, baby bird, whether you see it or not. Not sure in what context, but I pay attention to the two of you, and he cares more about you than any of us. And for the love of god, don't let Clint read that. He'd kill me with a spoon._

_Bottom line is, please be careful. I know you hear it a million times from everyone's favorite assassins–trust no one, look ways before you cross the street, but they're right. We've got targets on our backs and I just…you know, can't lose you. One of the two things I've ever cared about in this world, and I'd like to keep you and Pep both alive. So do me a favor, listen to Steve even if it pains you, and stay alive. I'll come find you soon, I promise. Just remember who you're fighting. And Katniss, your contingency plan isn't named Inferno because it's a cute name that Pierce can't crack. It's Inferno because you are._

_—Tony_

_PS: Try using your peripheral vision and focus on what you see next time you have an anxiety attack. You're a hunter, I read some stuff and I figured you'd know about that. That might help. Also, Trazodone._

_PPS: You left these on the coffee table._

Glancing back down in the box with the tears blurring her vision, she noticed that it hadn't been just the note. She reached inside, pulling out the small little notebook that she recognized almost immediately–it was her adjustment notebook. She'd started it shortly after moving in with Tony and he realized just how culturally deprived she was, only to be met with laughter from Bruce, who had experienced her lack of such firsthand. Every time there was something she didn't quite understand or someone gave her a reference, she would jot it down in her little notebook, making it a habit to look it up on her own time or venture on with Pepper's assistance. Eventually, the list had grown to the point where there were more entries than neatly crossed out lines. It grew legs on its own and had run far away from Katniss; she tried to do them, really, but by now it was too complicate it to reign it in.

She caught sight of something glinting in the light, a small silver chain peeking out from the corner of the box. It looked as though it was tucked under the bottom—or rather, the fake bottom, and she set her notebook on the side of the bed, no longer interested in it. Taking her fingernail, she moved it against the edges of the inside of the box and finally snagged a part where the sealing no longer stuck, where she could grab the fake bottom and peel it back. Lying at the real bottom was a necklace she couldn't remember when she'd worn in the past year. For the most part, she kept it in her pocket or close to her, but didn't wear it.

A small smile spread over her face as she thought about the day Natasha had given it to her, how it had been awkward all around because sentiment wasn't exactly her mother's forte but how the gesture had spoken volumes. She'd never seen Natasha so frantic and nervous to get something right, like she'd  _wanted_  for it to be perfect, and if she thought something wasn't perfect about it, she was scrambling to back track and make it that way. With steady fingers, she opened the locket slowly.

That's when she realized the photos had changed.

When she'd been given the necklace, Natasha had only put a photo of an arrow and the red hour glass that matched her belt buckle, to symbolize both her and Clint. All three panels were filled this time around; a photo of Clint and Natasha in one panel, looking more…jovial than she'd ever seen them, the both of them beaming at the other so hard that she felt the lump begin to reform in her throat, swallowing hard. The far right panel held a picture of Tony, Pepper, Bruce, and Katniss that had been taken during one of Tony's godforsaken family game nights, all of them lying on the couch and scrunched up together, appearing to be more like best friends than anything. And then, in the middle panel that had never been filled prior, was a photo of Katniss and Steve, back when they'd actually been able to tolerate one another and more, all of Steve's usually stiff mannerisms melted away as he draped one arm over her shoulder and kissed her cheek, Katniss blushing. She blinked a few times, the knot in her throat so large she felt as though she couldn't speak even if she'd been able to find words.

Katniss flashed back to what Natasha had said that day when she'd given her the necklace.  _I'm sorry it's not actual pictures of us, it's just not safe._  Did it mean that she was finally safe? Or did it mean that things were so beyond hopeless that it no longer mattered?

She didn't know.

* * *

It had been a peaceful day.

Katniss had gotten Steve's message of not being bothered with her, so she was left to do whatever she wanted. Most of the day she'd spent down by the lake, walking around, sitting on the dock and letting her feet brush over the top of the water, watching it ripple around any small movement. Living in New York for so long meant she hadn't been  _this_  close to actual nature, and not just what Central Park had to offer. It was the type of solace she'd been accustomed to when she'd lived in Twelve, the serenity of the woods and no distraction or civilization for miles. Sitting there in the silence would have usually meant her mind would be racing faster than she could keep up, but there was just a certain peace that fell over her. She wasn't worrying, or panicking, or stressing, like she had been for god only knew how long. Instead, it was just her, the lake, and silence.

Steve had come to retrieve her for dinner, the trek back up to the house seeming more and more like a hike the way her legs were working. She didn't understand how all of a sudden they had been working fine, and now she could barely stay on them for too long without feeling like someone had replaced her legs with those of a robot. Steve had shown a little compassion when he noticed, slowing down and waiting on her, and he kept glancing back over his shoulder to make sure she was still standing. It never took long for Steve to thaw out in a fight, but she'd fucked him over just as much as she had everyone else.

Dinner was a silent affair; nothing grand on the table in front of them, just sandwiches, something the two of them could manage without having to communicate or would result in them burning the house to the ground. Nothing to talk about either, unless of course they had the strong urge to discuss what had happened at the Triskelion, which would eventually rabbit hole down into almost two years of stacked up problems. Frankly, Katniss was too tired to open that many wounds and so she resorted to quietly chewing away at what had to be the worst sandwich she'd ever eaten, and she'd eaten food cooked by Tony Stark before.

Katniss was perfectly content on the couch, reading through a book she'd found one on of the shelves. It wasn't the most interesting thing she'd ever read, but she'd yet to see a television and at least with reading, she was occupied. There was no way she was going to get away with sneaking back outside, it was dark and she knew that with her legs being more irritating than usual, it probably wasn't the wisest decision. She'd resigned herself to a night on the couch, until Steve came whirling through.

"Come on," Steve said, voice clipped as he brushed past her. Katniss' train of sight followed him, twisting around to watch him storm towards the door.

"Where are we going?" she asked carefully.

Slipping his jacket on, Steve went about adjusting the collar as he spoke. "We're going to where the tracer found a hit; Natasha's coordinates have it rounding off about a half hour from here and I have a good idea of where we're going."

Her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, slowly rising from her place on the couch. She glanced over at the analog clock sitting on the night table, frowning. "It's almost eight," she pointed out, gesturing in the direction of the clock. Her face then twisted into a grimace, eyebrows falling. "Isn't that your bedtime?"

If looks could have killed, Steve would have seriously injured Katniss with the steely glare he sent in her direction. "Sitting and waiting around isn't up to your speed, or so I've learned."

It was near impossible for Katniss to fight the scowl forming on her face as she moved around the couch and falling in line behind Steve.  _I invented this game, Steve,_  she thought bitterly as she pulled the grey jacket hanging on the hook around her, flipping her hair out of the collar.  _I'll beat you ten times out of ten at it, too._

Another silent car ride followed; of course, Katniss didn't expect any sort of conversation between them. There wasn't much to say—well, there was, but if she'd thought dinner was a bad time to talk, this was even worse. She stayed low in the seat of the truck, curling into the jacket since  _clearly_  Steve enjoyed frigid temperatures. Maybe being on ice for seventy years had done a lot more for him than he knew, both physically and personality wise.

The truck stopped somewhere in between the endless expanses of highway and expanses of trees, leading them to what closely resembled an abandoned camp. She climbed out of the truck first, eager for the fresh air and to stretch her legs. "This is it?" she asked, hearing his door shut and the sound of his feet walking around to the front of the vehicle.

He was looking around, taking it all in. She could see it, registering there in his head just by his expression. "These were the coordinates that the file came from," he explained, pausing for a second. "So did I."

Katniss didn't question it; if she knew Steve as well as she thought she did, he'd explain himself in time. She kept her mouth shut as the two of them found a way past the fence and inside the camp, the sun already disappearing behind the clouds and the sky a shade of navy. Steve handed her his phone, where the trace signal had been recorded and gave her the task of trying to pinpoint a match while he looked for anything he deemed suspicious. It was clear in her mind who had the real job, and who was taking a stroll down memory lane, but she didn't comment on it.

It was a little while before Katniss spoke back up, her pacing around near a building with the phone held up over her head in hopes she'd catch something. "You said you know this place?" she implored, glancing over at Steve. His eyes were elsewhere, looking around at the changes time had made to the base.

"Yeah, this camp was where I was trained." Katniss remembered some of the stories that Steve had told her about before, before everything—the serum, all of it, and how he'd come to boot camp and been the scrawniest living thing for a ten mile radius. She knew that this was where it had started for him, or at least, where it had all changed.

She gave him a soft smile. "Changed much?"

Steve stared straight ahead, most of his back to her. "A little."

She didn't want to push any further, so she continued to pace around, waving the phone around in any direction she possibly could and pray that something would come up. It had all proved to be a dead end, another wild goose chase orchestrated by none other than Alexander Pierce. Mentally, she shuddered at the thought. Pierce had been so far in the back of her mind that she'd almost forgotten about the reality of the situation, but isolation did that.  _God,_ she thought to herself, teeth gritting down.  _Glad I'm over being an absolute idiot; maybe some good came out of the rug being swept out from underneath all of us._

"This is a dead end," she finally huffed, letting her arm drop to her side. "There's absolutely  _nothing_  here. It's a graveyard; no kind of heat signature, no kind of communication leaving this place—my guess is it left when the troops did." Steve turned back around to face her, looking slightly discouraged. They'd come all this way for nothing. She sighed. "My guess is the person who wrote that file just threw in these coordinates to throw whoever saw it off."

Katniss had fallen quiet for only a few moments before realizing that Steve's attention was elsewhere, studying one of the buildings ahead of them. She took a few steps forward, taking a quick glimpse at the building before looking back at Steve. "What is it?"

"Army regulations forbid storing ammunition within five hundred yards from the barracks," he muttered, rambling off the fact like it was the weather report. One of Katniss' eyebrows arched in response. "This building is in the wrong place."

She blinked a few times, no responses formulating. "Come on," he said, stalking off in the direction of the building, Katniss right on his heels. They made their way to the door, which had a massive lock on it. She got the feeling that whatever was inside that building, someone really wanted others to get the message to keep out.

"Here, stand back," Steve interrupted her train of thoughts, pushing her back a little bit before pulling the shield off of his back. She hadn't even realized how close to him she'd been standing, staring down at her feet as Steve took the shield and rammed it into the lock. It snapped right open, falling to the ground with a dull clank.

"Don't suppose you'd remember the army's regulations for where they keep the light switches," she mumbled as she walked inside the building first, the darkness blinding. Hell, the lights hadn't been used in  _years_  and there was no telling if they would even turn on if they found them. Apparently, Steve still knew his way around, because no sooner had she started blindly tiptoeing through the darkness did a wash of light flood the room,

The giant SHIELD emblem on the far wall told them exactly where they were. They were both looking around the room, trying to figure out what this base had been used for; if it was just there to be a secret location, or if it was more than that. "This is where SHIELD started?" Katniss breathed out, walking along a wall with several framed photos hung.

"Maybe."

She recognized Howard Stark's portrait, mainly because Tony resembled him so much. She didn't recognize the two other faces, one a man and the other a woman. "Were these your friends?" she asked softly, but Steve made no show of acting like he'd heard her.

Instead, he walked down the length of a room where a giant bookshelf stood, Steve studying it for a moment. "Tell me, if you're already working in a secret office…" he trailed off. Katniss took a step forward, watching as he leaned forward and pushed the bookshelf out of the way. To her surprise, there was another door, one that looked like it led to an elevator. Steve really did know the ins and outs of this place.

"Why do you need to hide an elevator?"

They boarded it without asking the other if it seemed like a good idea, they'd come too far for some sort of answer and Katniss knew she wasn't about to turn around and leave if they were on the verge of something, Steve probably right along there with her for once. The ride down to wherever was quiet, the air awkward around the two of them. When the doors peeled back, it revealed a room filled with computers,  _ancient_  computers. Katniss knew that for most her life she'd been completely out of touch with technology and walking into a world where Tony Stark existed and was family had been a culture shock, but so was this. The equipment was outdated, and she didn't even realize she'd verbalized her thoughts until she caught Steve giving her a puzzled look. "What?" she protested. "Modern SHIELD data, old, old computers. Something doesn't add up, don't you think?"

"Katniss, it's a miracle I can even use my phone, but I have one."

She tilted her head to the side in contemplation, one of her shoulders rising and falling in a half-hearted shrug. Eyes scanning over the room, she began to walk along the desk where most of the monitors sat. A fine layer of dust had covered over them, running her fingers tracing over some of the equipment to see if she could find anything. Her hand bumped into a small little box, and when she looked down, she saw what looked like a flash drive port. Running her fingers over the small openings, she called over her shoulder, "Hey Steve, you still have that flash drive? Let me see it."

Steve was behind her in a few seconds, extending the flash drive out in her direction. She took it from him, going on her whim and plugging it into the port. All of a sudden, the computers around them lurched to life. Both of them took a few steps back, one of the monitors prompting the question,  ** _INITIATE SYSTEM?_**

Katniss and Steve exchanged looks for a moment, before Katniss stepped forward and leant down to where the keyboard was. "Y-E-S spells yes," she mused to herself.

It was silent for a moment; Katniss backing up to where Steve was as they watched one of the systems start to turn itself on. The image on the screen went from black to a sort of grainy image, like it was scanning the face of someone but didn't quite capture all the features, leaving the outline of prominent features in green. "Rogers, Steven," a heavily accented voice rang out into the room, startling Katniss. "Born 1918."

A camera that neither of them had taken into account turned, as if it were observing the two of them. It stopped when it had landed on Katniss, doing a quick analysis over her, she suspected. "Romanoff-Barton, Katniss Delia. Born 1995."

Katniss stared at the camera, glancing back over at the computer screen. "It's…some kind of recording," she observed.

"I am not a recording, Fräulein," the voice snapped. "I may not be the man I was when the Captain took me prisoner in 1945, but I am very much alive." A picture then appeared on the screen where the 'face' had been, a black-and-white, poor quality photo of a short man with thick-lens glasses standing next to a filing cabinet.

Her head snapped over in Steve's direction, to see that he was staring at it just as confoundedly as she had. "Wait, you know this thing?" she asked.

"Arnim Zola was a German scientist who worked for the Red Skull," he explained, almost hollowly. "He's been dead for years."

The picture disappeared on the screen as the voice started talking yet again. "First correction, I am Swiss. Second, look around you. I have never been more alive." The look on Steve's face was a combination of many things, Katniss had just yet to pinpoint which emotion was currently the most prominent as Zola continued telling his story. "In 1972, I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body, my mind, however, that was worth saving on two hundred thousand feet of data banks. You are standing  _in_  my brain."

Katniss' eyes swept over the room, tailing in a small circle. "How did you get here?" Steve said, his voice sharp.

"Invited," Zola replied smugly. "Operation Paperclip after World War II, SHIELD recruited German scientists with strategic values. They thought I could help their cause. I also helped my own."

"HYDRA died with the Red Skull," Steve insisted, and Katniss wasn't sure who he was trying to convince with that statement. She also wasn't sure what he meant by HYDRA; he'd briefly talked about who and what he'd fought during the war, but he had never gone into detail. She'd never pried either; she had been grateful he'd shared what he had. The name was familiar, but she hadn't exactly had a history lesson on what HYDRA really was.

Zola's response came in the form of a sneer. "Cut off one head, two more shall take its place."

"Prove it."

"Accessing archive." On another one of the monitors, pictures and footage of whom Katniss assumed was the Red Skull and HYDRA itself from during the war flashed across the screen, while Zola talked. "HYDRA was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom. What we did not realize, was that if you try to take that freedom, they resist. The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly. After the war, SHIELD was founded and I was recruited. The new HYDRA grew. A beautiful parasite inside SHIELD. For seventy years HYDRA has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war. And when history did not cooperate, history was changed."

Katniss shook her head in disbelief. "That's…impossible, SHIELD would have stopped you.  _Someone_  would have." She felt just as desperate as she sounded.

"Accidents will happen." Zola's voice was cold, as pictures of news headlines began to appear on the monitor of the car crash that had killed Tony's parents, revealing that it hadn't been a car, but HYDRA. Katniss felt her blood simmer inside her veins, fists clenching by her sides. Sometimes, when she and Tony both couldn't sleep, he'd tell her stories from his childhood, talk about what he'd gone through, and she'd do the same. It was why she and Tony were so close, because they'd shared so much with each other, and to know that he'd spent nights so choked up and angry as he tried to retell the stories of what life was like after the car accident were all based on a false foundation infuriated her. Fury's picture appeared on the screen, with a giant 'deceased' sign next to it.

"You…you…" Katniss stammered out, unable to formulate any other coherent thoughts she was so enraged. Zola steamrolled right over her with his talking, something that was  _really_  starting to get on her nerves.

"HYDRA created a world so chaotic that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice its freedom to gain its security. Once the purification process is complete, HYDRA's new world order will arise. We won, Captain. Your death amounts to the same as your life: a zero sum."

Steve had turned his back to the computer, but it was like something had snapped inside of him. His fist collided with the computer screen, it shattering underneath the force. Katniss stared at him, eyes wide. He was breathing heavy—still obviously angry but had found some relief knowing Zola was silenced, as had Katniss.

And right when they thought the storm was over, Zola appeared on the adjacent monitor. Katniss rolled her eyes, one of her balled up fists itching to pull the same move Steve had. "As I was saying..." he drawled out, but Katniss wasn't hearing anything else he had to say.

"What's on this drive?" she demanded.

"Project Insight requires insight. So I wrote an algorithm," Zola explained nonchalantly.

"Algorithm? What kind of algorithm, what does it do?"

Zola gave a small laugh. "The answer to your question is fascinating. Unfortunately, you shall be too dead to hear it."

Katniss and Steve's eyes met the moment he said it, both of their eyes wide with horror. From behind them, the door they'd come in had started to close, and as if it were an instinct, Steve's arm snapped and the shield went flying. His phone was still in her jacket pocket and began to beep like crazy, Katniss fumbling to pull it out. The sound of the shield ricocheting off the walls was discouraging, but she didn't have time to see what she already knew was happening. Her eyes flitted over the details, calling out to him, "Steve, I got a missile coming in, says it's short-range ballistic. Thirty seconds, tops." She glanced back up, to see his eyes trained on her, wild.

"Who fired it?"

She took a shaky breath. "SHIELD."

Zola, being the persistent bastard, spoke back up. "I am afraid I have been stalling, Captain." Katniss looked around frantically, grabbing the drive and yanking it out of the port before shoving it in her pocket. The missile was so close that she could hear it approaching; they only had seconds before it hit.

"Steve!"

He had noticed a small opening there in the ground, and he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him. She followed in compliance, Steve throwing the metal grate aside to make way for them. Zola was  _still_ behind them, rambling on, almost inaudible as the missile was right on top of them. "Admit it, it's better this way. We're both of us... _out of time_."

Steve grabbed Katniss by the waist, hoisting the shield over both their heads and jumping down with her inside the small opening right as the building exploded. It was deafening, so forceful that it shook the very bones inside her body as she landed roughly inside the bottom of the hole. Steve was right on top of her, holding the shield above her, and she instinctively tucked into him. She felt like she could hear him calling out her name, but she wasn't sure. Smoke was filling their small little cove, filling her lungs, and the heat was intense. Ears ringing, she wasn't able to distinguish this from reality.

And then, black.


	15. songs of silence

Everything was still, too still.

Usually, she could hear even the smallest of things; the sound of a breeze rustling past outside her window, people in other rooms—typically, Tony in his lab banging up against things and JARVIS advising him that what he was doing was illogical—the sound of traffic and the beating of the city's heart thirteen stories below, the hum of the electricity, even silence wasn't silent. She could always hear  _something._  But she couldn't hear anything, and god, did it terrify her.

Katniss jolted straight up, her heart rate spiking in no time as her eyes darted wildly around the room she was in. She didn't recognize her surroundings; she was in a bedroom somewhere, the paint on the walls sky blue and a blanket tangled around her legs. Again, the stillness filled her ears. There was no sound, except for the steady thumping of her heart, and even then if she didn't know if she was just imagining that sound for the sake of filling the silence with something.

The door to her room was ajar, and she strained her neck to get a better look at the wallpaper in what looked like the hallway. As she watched, feeling almost useless without being able to hear anything, a shadow finally appeared on the wall and grew closer. Katniss sat up just a little straighter, almost rigid as someone began to push the door open even farther. A head poked in, and she had never been more relieved to see Steve Rogers in her life. Last time she'd seen him, SHIELD was trying to blow them up and smoke had been filling her lungs, the bunker trembling around them as they burrowed into a small opening in the floor, wreckage following suit.

Realizing she was awake, he gave her a soft smile as he pulled himself inside her room, only closing the door halfway. He was holding something behind his back, and she couldn't quite get a good enough glimpse at it. Whatever it was, it was large enough that it needed that kind of concealment. Steve sat down on the edge of her bed, and that's when she caught glimpse of what it was he was holding. It looked like a notebook, along with a Sharpie that his hand had curled around tightly. She scanned over him, trying to get a read on why he was all of a sudden acting like he was genuinely pleased to see her. Last she'd checked, he was still incredibly pissed off at her for sneaking off to the Triskelion. That's how she knew whatever was going on was serious.

"Steve," she croaked out, her throat scratchy and feeling almost as if it was on fire. What she hadn't been ready for was the sound—or rather, lack thereof—of silence once again, unable to hear her own voice. It scared her, terrified her even. She felt herself succumb into flight mode, breathing speeding up and growing a lot shallower, her eyes frantically scouring the room. One of Steve's hands moved out and rested over her shin, a vain attempt to calm her.

That was when he uncapped the pen, and pulled back the cover of the notebook.

After a moment of writing—and Katniss freaking out—he held it up so she could read.  **Calm down,**  he said.  **Everything's alright. You're okay.**  Answers she'd expected to come from Steve, but answers that did very little to solace her.

"Where are we? What…what happened, why can't I hear you? Why can't I hear anything?" she whimpered, still amidst her panic. Of course, she had a dozen questions.

She kept her eyes glued to Steve as he flipped the page, head bending down as he began to write. He had the notebook placed in his lap to where she couldn't see what he was writing; probably a smart tactic, as watching the words spill would do nothing but feed her anxiousness. Once he finished, he turned the notebook around for her to see.  **We're back in DC, wasn't safe to go back to the safe house with SHIELD there on site after the missile hit. I was scared they'd follow us and I didn't want to take my chances with you being with me. You passed out a few minutes after we went under, I got you out. Brought you here to Sam's and then made a few calls. You've only been out for a few days.**

"A few days?" she found herself repeating, astonished. Steve rolled his eyes—the true Steve coming out to play—as he edited the statement, a sloppy ' _2'_  written after his last sentence. Katniss shook her head, as if that would assist with ironing out the thoughts bouncing around in her mind. "Why can't I hear you?"

His facial expression turned grave, and she swallowed hard. Steve rarely had that look on his face; the only other time she'd seen it was during New York. Turning the page again, he stopped with the pen poised above the paper, as if he were preparing to strike. He had to be thinking of what to write, what to say. It took him a moment before he seemingly figured it out, pen scratching across the page.  **Do you remember when the Helicarrier's engines blew a few years ago and we were on the other side of the blast?**

Talking without hearing was still foreign to her, and her throat was still on fire, so she simply shook her head.

**SHIELD's medical files on you say that it damaged some of your ear, but that over time it would have healed, especially if we kept you away from loud noises like explosions and stuff and kept you on that medicine. You know, that really disgusting stuff that you had to take three times a day.**

"Yeah…but what, I mean, what does that have to do with anything? How does that explain why I can't hear you now?"

She watched as he scribbled furiously on the notepad, taking in his features as he did so. He kept swallowing, she noticed, and his eyes were flirting across the words he wrote with his trembling hand, going back over lines, over and over again. Katniss had never seen Steve without a steady hand, and that scared her.

Her eyes flew once he held up the pad.  **When the missile hit the bunker, you were only a few feet from where it hit. It was so loud that it ruptured your ear drums, both of them. Banner says that the damage from New York only meant that this would end up being that much worse.**

Katniss' eyebrows shot up in confusion. "Bruce?" she felt the word slide off her lips. "What…is he here? What do you mean ' _that much worse_ ’?” Steve, however, had already resumed to writing, and when he held it up, it was nothing but guilt splattered across the page—again, typical Steve behavior, what it seemed to be.

**If you had gotten in that little hole sooner, even if I had thrown the shield over you before we hit, the sound wouldn't have been as loud, you wouldn't have taken a direct hit. I didn't get you under in time. I'm sorry, Kat.**

She tried to ignore the fact he'd called her Kat, something he hadn't called her in what seemed like ages. "Steve," she said, a lot harder this time, teeth clenching down. " _What_  are you saying?"

It didn't take him long to write out her answer, and he had to avert his eyes elsewhere when he showed her.  **You're deaf,**  it read.  **And it's permanent. Banner called it yesterday.**

Her heart came crashing down in her chest, stopping altogether—or maybe it hadn't, but she wasn't able to hear any difference between the two, so there was no way of knowing.

Katniss had experienced temporary deafness; the breaching on the Helicarrier, before she went down and when she'd woken up from her surgery after New York, just like her file said. She was familiar with not being able to hear anything, feel like her ears had been stopped up and the sound was fuzzy, like she was listening to the conversation with noise-cancelling headphones on, her eyes watering at the sensation. That's what she had hoped this was just a case of, but she should have known the difference was enough to tell her that was a waste of time, building up hope. She wasn't used to complete and utter silence. It was like she'd never been able to hear to begin with, like she'd always been this way; no ringing in her ears, no odd sensations from the temporary deafness in its many shapes and forms. No, this  _felt_  permanent, just like Steve had written.

The tears didn't take long to form in her eyes, her throat starting to close. "D…deaf?" she stammered out hoarsely. Steve just nodded.

She couldn't bring herself to look at him, turning her head and staring at the point where the bed she was in met the wall. Steve's hand still on her shin gave a small squeeze, obviously meant to comfort, but she didn't want to be touched. She didn't want to be comforted as the tears began to slide down her face slowly, her newfound best friend the silence swallowing her whole.

She wanted Natasha.

* * *

Clint had resorted to going around and throwing things at the wall or off of their current fixtures, in order to find some sort of release. Natasha found it annoying, of course, but she didn't chastise him for it. If she acted on her emotions in the explosive way he chose to, she would have been throwing Tony's fine china at the wall until her hands bled. But she wasn't Clint, and so she sat stationary on the edge of the couch and kept her eyes glued on the coffee table. It was the one thing Clint had yet to flip, and she was anticipating it.

The moment Bruce had called the burner phone, she knew something had gone wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong. Bruce knew to only call the burner phones in cases of extreme emergencies—not Tony's idea of an extreme emergency, which was something like unable to locate a credit card to pay for a pizza or losing some miniscule tool that would make  _all_  the difference in the latest suit, but an actual life or death situation. So when the unmistakable ringtone started blaring, harsh and unforgiving, she contemplated praying to whatever god that she didn't believe in for any kind of a miracle.

Clint, of course, had beaten her to it, growing wings and flying to where it was at. She just watched him as he listened to whatever was being said, seeing the emotions fly across his face like a movie reel. He was crushed, and almost crushed the phone in result as he threw it back on the table, storming away from it a few moments later.

She'd taken the opportunity to gently pick it back up off the table, bringing it to her ear. "Bruce?"

"Natasha," he'd breathed into the phone, as if he was grateful she'd been the one to pick up again instead of Hurricane Clint.

"Hit me with it," she rushed out, holding her breath the moment the words fell and waited for the blow to hit her square in the chest.

"I'm in DC." Her eyes had flown back open—she didn't even realize she'd closed them—completely derailed as to why Bruce was in the same city as them.

"DC?" she'd barked. "What are you doing in DC?"

"Steve called me yesterday, said he needed a doctor." She had no idea where to stand on that one; it could have meant a million different things from someone losing a limb to someone needing stitches, someone on life support to someone needing a Band-Aid for a paper cut. "He and Katniss went to some old SHIELD bunker and SHIELD found them, tried to kill them. Sent in a missile and blew the place all the way to kingdom come."

"But they're alright though, right?"

"Not quite." Natasha had felt her heart drop, and almost wanted Bruce to hurry up and spit out whatever he'd clearly had no issue dishing out to Clint. "They're fine, they both made it out of there undetected. Steve got them to Sam Wilson's, I treated them both for smoke inhalation."

"Banner, what did you tell Clint?" she'd growled, knowing that he was beating around the bush when it came to her daughter. Frankly, she was more terrifying when it came to the two of them, because unlike Clint, she simmered. She simmered for a long time until she got to boiling point, and then the pressure would build and build and when she finally exploded, it made atomic bombs look like crude firework displays.

He'd sighed. "Katniss still hasn't woken up yet; even with your advanced physiology in her genetic code, all of the events aligning perfectly completely did her in. She'll probably start coming around later on today or tomorrow, just depending on how much strength she gets built back up. But it's her waking up that I'm afraid of."

" _Banner_." Natasha was on the very edge of her fraying rope with him, desperate for details.

"When I looked her over, she had some complications. Her ear drums were completely ruptured by that explosion, and she'd already had some minor damage back from New York that contributed to it." Bruce had given another sigh. "Natasha, she's deaf."

It was like Natasha herself had gone deaf, the whole room turning on its side. SHIELD trying to kill her daughter was one thing, one thing she was positive that they'd have hell to pay for. The fact that they'd deafened her, stripped her of her senses, beaten her until yet another part of her had broken was what she was going to bring them down at the knees for. Her Katya—the name she solely reserved for when she was with Katniss and chose to call her, since there was no variation of Katniss in her native tongue,  _deaf_. SHIELD, Alexander Pierce, who-the-fuck-ever, was going to burn to the ground and see Natasha's face there dancing in the flames for doing that to her. Natasha had never felt such a desperation before, not when she'd seen her child for the first time, not when she'd had to deal with Clint's mind being taken hostage, not when she'd watched Katniss being stabbed by that goddamned alien. At least she'd been there to compensate for the fact she was totally out of control.

"What can you do?" she'd snapped, the words falling from her mouth in a rush. "What are you  _going_  to do?"

"I can't  _do_  anything, Natasha. Surgery isn't going to fix it; any surgery that could make it any better is performed solely by doctors at SHIELD, which, last time I checked, was the very organization that tried to kill her and wants the two of you dead as well. I'm trying to pull a few strings, get her some hearing aids before next week is out—"

"Next  _week?_ " Natasha screeched. "Banner, we have to figure Insight out and bring Pierce down now. Today. There is no waiting until 'next week'. If she can't hear…"

"Natasha, I'm trying. I'm doing everything humanly possible to make her as comfortable as I can for when she finds out and to make this transition as smooth as I can. You cannot just rush her around now, like your own little personal weapon. She's deaf. She's a hunter, one of the top senses she relies on is gone and her PTSD is not going to get any better with deafness tacked on. It's going to take time."

"We don't  _have_  time."

"Then she's out of this, whatever it is. Doctor's orders."

Natasha had been quiet, her deadly stage of quiet. There had been nothing to separate her from Secretary Pierce just then, wanting to keep pushing Katniss until she broke yet again. She wasn't a weapon, no matter in what light of war she wanted to view her from. Katniss was her daughter, not her weapon. All of this SHIELD mess was starting to fuck with her head, misconstrue everything. "Get her those hearing aids. I don't care how long it takes, but get them fast. She'll go off the deep end without them," she'd finally said, her voice strangled.

"You know I'll do my best."

"When can I come see her?"

"Natasha, I'm not sure that's the best idea…"

" _When."_

"I'll call you," Bruce had promised, but she knew he was only saying that to keep her from reaching through the phone and pulling his tongue through the receiver. "I'll take care of her. Natasha. Steve will; he hasn't left her side since. We're going to make sure she's okay."

"освободить ее," she'd said softly in her tongue, something simple that even Bruce would understand.

The situation at hand was dire, she knew that. And she knew that this was just how Clint chose to deal with things, but it was really starting to drive her up a wall. He threw a book—more than likely one that was there for show, fortunately—in the direction of the same wall he'd targeted, the plastering probably wearing thin by now. "Clint," she sighed, and he whirled around.

" _No,_  Nat. Don't even fucking  _start_  with me." This was personal for Clint, and she knew it. They'd lived through this once before, when Clint went deaf years and years ago on a mission, so long ago that it had seemed like an entire lifetime ago. It had been hard on Clint, especially, learning how to adjust to live with the hearing aids and the other conundrums associated with being deaf, much less getting used to shooting again. The aids SHIELD had given him, designed to be unnoticeable, were of course noticeable for Clint and bothered him to the point where he nearly drove himself up a wall. It had nearly destroyed him, taking a complete toll on him. Always angry and in a mood, it had taken awhile for him to adjust to the resignation of what his fate was: he'd never have the hearing he once had. Eventually he'd come around, but not without dragging his stubborn ass around the corner by the nape of the neck. Now the fact that Katniss, who was practically his mini-me, was going through the exact same thing was gnawing away at him on the inside. She'd be worse. A lot worse than he was; he knew that in the back of his mind. He'd gone stir crazy? She'd be attempting to claw everyone's eyes out before the night was out. "I'm going to kill him," he finally said, after a pause of silence, voice deadly serious.

"Who?"

"You  _know_  who! Who else knew where they were, who was the one who probably pressed the little red button to launch that missile?" Natasha sighed.

"We can't exactly just go burn down his backyard, Clint."

"Like hell I can't."

Natasha was feeling even more frustrated with the situation thanks to Clint's antics. The moment Bruce had broken the news, she knew that this would be difficult with him around, but as always, he exceeded her expectations. Running a hand back through her hair, she admitted, "You know that I don't know what this is like—"

"—congratu- _fucking_ -lations,"

"—but don't start shutting me out again," Natasha threatened. "It's not just you that gets affected by this, not this time, anyways. This affects the both of us. You can't just go barreling around guns blazing just because you're torn up, there's more than one person at stake here and it's not you."

"I just want to see her, and then I'll go kill a senior secretary of SHIELD later," he mumbled. Natasha didn't move, she didn't even open her mouth to respond or chastise him for his comments. One of Clint's eyebrows lifted, catching on to Natasha's odd quietness. "Nat? We're going to see her, right?"

"No."

Clint gave a small laugh, falling short once he realized Natasha's expression was still stoic, not even a crack. "You're serious," he finally said, face falling as she gave a small shrug. "What the—"

Natasha buried her face in her hands. "I wasn't about to argue with Bruce, he says he 'doesn't know when we can see her' and frankly, I don't want to give her an audience. You know how she is, she'll want space."

"Can you read her mind?"

"Clint, don't—"

"And what Banner said, that's bullshit; I'll head my ass on up to DC now," Clint said defiantly, his hands hitting his thighs as he let them fall to his side, as if he was prepared to walk out of there on the spot and trek to where Katniss was by foot.

"No, you won't."

"And why the hell not? What's he doing, then?" Clint snapped, throwing one of his hands out in a gesture towards the kitchen, most likely referring to Bruce. "What's he doing to help her? Nothing? Letting her sit in bed, wallow in the fact she can't fucking hear?"

"Banner says he's trying to pull strings, get her hearing aids—"

"She can have mine," he snarled, but Natasha could see that there in his eyes, he meant every word of it. "She can have them. I'll go deaf, I like the silence. I  _invite_  it. I know ASL, I…I can handle myself. She can have them."

"Clint, don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not being  _ridiculous,_  Natasha!"

"You're not walking around deaf!"

"But  _she is!_ And I…goddamn it, _"_ he trailed off, hands knotting in his hair out of frustration. He paced the length of the coffee table again, before spinning on his heel and facing Natasha. "I remember what it was like, when I woke up and I couldn't hear a thing. She woke up in an unfamiliar room, hundreds of miles away from here and it was all…nothing. It's  _nothing_ , Tasha. It's not like silence; at least in the silence you can still hear something. It's nothing. And that's exactly where she's going to fall, the longer she sits in DC with no one who understands what it is she's going through. She's going to fall straight to rock bottom, farther down than I did and a lot faster." Clint fell silent again, before gesturing at her. He sounded tired when he opened his mouth again. "How are you not…how can you just sit there and act like this isn't anything?"

Natasha's response was feral. "Don't tell me I'm acting like this is nothing, because this is  _something._ You don't know  _what_  it's like," she spat out venomously, throwing his thoughts back in his face. Clint had seen her act like this before, only when she felt like the world was coming down on top of her and she had to retreat back inside her head to keep from exploding.

He was at her side within seconds, sitting down next to her on the edge of the couch. Their arms brushed as he tried to get a closer look at her face, a curtain of red hair obstructing his view. "Tasha…" he whispered.

She stared down at her knees, eyes burning with tears. She didn't cry. But first it was Fury dying, and now her daughter was being hunted like some sort of animal, deafened in the process, and she wasn't sure just how much more of this she could take. Losing the people she cared about, watching them get hurt. "I just…" she started, her voice thick. “When something happens to you—"

"Stop, Tasha," Clint cut in, his hand breaking through her hair and finding her chin, tilting it so she was looking right at him. She kept trying to focus her line of sight elsewhere, but the intensity of his eyes on her finally lifted them. "Nothing is happening to me." She opened her mouth to protest, but Clint shook his head. "Nothing."

* * *

It had been a lonely afternoon, the loneliest afternoon she'd ever experienced in her life. Bruce had popped in at one point with that same ridiculous notepad and Sharpie, asking her if there was anything she wanted. She had simply shaken her head—she knew what she wanted, but it wasn't as though it was magically going to return to her. She'd read what Steve wrote. It was permanent. There was no reversing it.

She'd spent the rest of her time sleeping; she was still exhausted and sleeping proved to be a much better escape than staring at the ceiling and watching the fan go round and round endlessly. At least in her sleep, there wasn't the lingering emptiness where there was supposed to be sound. Instead, she was just haunted by the images of Alexander Pierce torturing her team, or aliens descending on New York once again, and killing the team. They never did seem to spare her; at least, they waited until she was the last one left, completely beside herself, before slitting her throat.

The nightmare had jolted her awake, her chest rising and falling quickly as she tried to catch her breath. The alarm clock sitting on the night table flashed 9:14, and she inwardly groaned. The day hadn't passed as quickly as she would have liked, and there was still an endless amount of time left where she'd be doomed to the confines of her dreams. It was official, she was going out of her mind, and it hadn't even been twenty four hours.

Letting her eyes flit around the dimly lit room—Sam's  _other_  guest room, she'd come to find out—she tried to relax herself before sinking down into the sheets again. As her eyes moved across the room, she caught sight of movement, the door being pushed open slowly, almost tantalizingly. Katniss sat up a little straighter, squinting to see if it was Steve, or Banner, or maybe one of the Chitauri, if she was still trapped inside her dreams.

Finally, the door had opened enough, and a figure slid in. With only the lamp light on, it was hard to see who it was that had walked in, but the scent accompanying her visitor was strong, and incredibly familiar. She looked beside her, where her visitor was pulling up a chair next to her. They took a seat, and there in the light on the night table's glow, she could see the pearly white teeth flashing her what seemed to be the first genuine smile she'd seen all day.

She watched his mouth form the words, "Surprise, kiddo."

_Tony._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translation:
> 
> "save her."


	16. the fifth sense

Blinking a few times there in the dark just to make sure that he wasn't just an image burned into the back of her eyelids, Katniss stared at Tony in bewilderment. The letter she'd gotten only days earlier had said that he was wandering somewhere near Tennessee, her assumption being that his nomadic tendencies would keep him on the move. Moving this fast, however, she hadn't quite anticipated.

Then again, she'd been asleep for two days.

Leaning over, her fingers found the small knob and awkwardly fumbled with it before giving it another turn, more light flooding from the bulb. Things were a little clearer in the addition of more light; Tony was wearing one of his Black Sabbath t-shirts underneath an unbuttoned plaid shirt—something she'd only seen Clint wear before, Tony definitely not—and she could tell that his facial hair was beginning to fall on the more unruly side. And of course, there in his right hand was that godforsaken notepad and a pen pressed against the cover.  _Can't escape it, apparently._

One of her hands moved back through the dark mess of hair on her head as she craned her neck in his direction. "What are you doing here?" she asked, feeling her vocal cords strain to keep her voice quiet. "You're supposed to be in the South. You're supposed to be dead."

Tony gave an insouciant shrug, uncapping the pen using his teeth. Inwardly, she wished he'd talk normally and go through the hassle of reading his lips there in the lamp light as opposed to translating chicken scratch. It didn't take him long to turn the notebook towards her—perks of chicken scratch— **do I look dead to you?**

"Guess not," she agreed half-heartedly. Katniss couldn't bring herself to feel excited about seeing Tony. Sure, she was glad to see her godfather; if anything, she was relieved that he was still alive and hadn't been blown sky high by SHIELD. She knew why Tony was here, however, and it wasn't for a friendly reunion. The only reason everything around her had come to a screeching halt was because of what had happened to her. Her injuries. Her hindrances.  _Her._

Tony had resumed scribbling on the notepad, every few seconds glancing back up at her as if he was worried she might fall back asleep on him.  **how are the legs, kit kat?**

"Really?" Katniss muttered dryly. "You come all the way from god knows where in the middle of the night and the first, the most obvious question that you want to ask me is 'how are my legs?'"

He rolled his eyes, the notepad resting on his forearm as he returned to letting the pen scratch across the paper.  **sure is,** was his matter-of-fact response, and Katniss couldn't tell if he genuinely meant that or was just pushing what few buttons she had left that hadn't fallen off.  **so how are they?**

She shrugged. "I don't know," she said, her vocal cords straining as she tried to whisper. "I haven't really gotten out of bed much the past few days. Steve's pretty much done all the walking for me when I need to go right across the hall. I feel like you whenever you're in the suit—like the Tin Man in the winter who hasn't been oiled up in ages."

Tony's face twisted up.  **ha ha, glad to see that you didn't lose your refined sense of humor.** He turned back down to the paper in front of him, the pen stopping the minute it touched the page as he tried to think of what to write next. Observation had become more important over the past few hours of her life than almost any other sense she could possibly rely on, and it was written all over his face that he was struggling to figure out what to say and not sound like an insensitive asshole.

"It sucks," Katniss found herself blurting out, the words rolling off her lips. "It's like the worst thing that could possibly ever happen, and then it getting even worse. I feel like absolute shit, Tony. That's how I'm feeling. That's how all of this feels."

There in the darkness, she could see that his face had fallen as he started to write something. Tony had never been good at hiding his emotions, especially when he was spread thin, and it seemed like the both of them had been that way for as long as they could remember. Katniss could tell he was biting down on the inside of his cheek, his mind was racing much faster than that pen could move and he was physically having to hold himself back from letting all the words spew from his mouth, because he was screaming reminders to himself that she wouldn't be able to hear him. "Tony," she said. "Hey, look at me."

As he did so, he turned the pad around so she could see what he'd written.  **i don't know how you're doing it, kiddo, i really dont. i just wanna help you out, ok? i wanna make sure youre ok. all of us…we don't know how to really help you out here since this is new, and getting papa bird out here isn't on the agenda so we're all trying but we're trying ok? we are, i am i swear**

"I know you are." It wasn't much of any reassurance, but Katniss wasn't in the position to try and reassure anyone. The Clint issue had angered her beyond all belief when Bruce had come in to give her more painkillers and broke the news. If there was no Clint, then there was no Natasha, and that was all she'd really wanted. Apparently, her parents hadn't been taking it any lighter than she was; from what she understood, Clint had been beyond furious when he got the call. She didn't blame him any. She wanted him just as much as he wanted to see her, he was the only one who could have had any idea what was going on, and he was the one person that they were keeping from her.

The two of them weren't emotional people, and knowing that the both of them were on the verge of some grand emotional unraveling freaked her out. She couldn't handle anything else, not with what felt like the world still bearing down on her shoulders. She couldn't lift anyone else's pain, and she knew that; for once, she was willing to admit that. Katniss forced a smile over her lips. "I'm okay, Tony." She wasn't sure if she was trying to convince him or herself of that statement.

Tony was already wildly writing away—not only was he terrible at hiding his emotions, but he was fantastic at not talking about them and avoiding the matter altogether.  **brought something for you, wanna see?**

Katniss nodded eagerly; ready to move past whatever it was they had been on the brink of. Her godfather reached into the pocket of his jacket, rummaging around until he found what he was looking for. Protruding from it was a small box clasped in his hand, and he gently unfolded his fingers and presented it to her. He mouthed something that resembled 'take it' and she did as he asked. Pulling the top of the box off slowly, Katniss had to lean over and thrust the box underneath the lamp light in order to see what exactly rested inside.

She couldn't quite make out what was in the box, softly asking Tony, "What are they?"

He tapped her shoulder, showing her the other side of the notebook—he'd been prepared for her questions, evidently.  **They're your hearing aids; when brucie called, i didn't have much time to make them fancy or anything. These are just a prototype, since I'm here now and everything if they need any fine tuning we can fix them but other than that they should do the trick…small enough that you won't have to worry about anyone noticing them. just like your dear old man liked them, anyways.**

Katniss carefully took the hearing aids from the box, letting them fall into her hand. She'd never even thought of what hearing aids had looked like; the hearing aid business had always been a bit of a soft subject whenever she asked Natasha about it and she wasn't even sure of how these were supposed to go in her ear, much less work properly. "How the…" she awkwardly trailed off.

Tony rested one of his hands over her empty one, catching her attention again. Quickly, he wrote something down on the sheet of paper, in one of the margins since the entire page was littered with his horrendous handwriting.  **don't worry about putting those in right now, doc wants you to rest up. gotta get you better so you can kick alexander pierce's ass**   **all the way to mars and more importantly, so we can get our kat back. :D**

A small laugh pushed its way from her throat at his smiley face, the first little bit of something other than depression she'd felt since waking up. "Tony?" Katniss said, after dropping the aids back into the box and sitting them back on her night table. "Thanks."

He didn't respond, instead just leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before fluffing her pillow and helping her get situated back underneath the covers. She could have sworn she saw him mouth the words, "I'm gonna kill him for what he did to you, kiddo" but it didn't really matter. The only two things she knew for certain were the people she cared about were safe for now and Sam Wilson had wonderful tastes in bedding.

Maybe things would get to slightly okay.

* * *

She'd spent the day with Bruce and Tony, who were both running diagnostic after diagnostic until Katniss was almost ready to take her aids out and embrace the sound of nothing that she knew would fill the air around her. The first words she'd heard with the aids in were "Steve, why the  _fuck_ does this coffee taste as bitter as my soul?" courtesy of none other than Anthony Stark himself. That had made her crack a smile, up until the room started spinning again.

From what she'd heard — already that seemed weird, as hearing things would always be looked at from a completely different perspective — she was going through what Bruce called a minor case of unilateral vestibulopathy, something that typically occurred when there was damage to the inner ear. She'd only gone through a few of the symptoms; nausea, blurry vision, and had trouble with her balance. That one had come as no surprise; her legs were bad enough as is.

Steve was her new roommate; after Tony's arrival, Sam's place had instantly arrived at over-capacity and to everyone else, Steve was the obvious choice to stick in a room with her. As much as she wanted to resent the choice, like she seemingly resented everything else to do with Steve and him being around her, she couldn't. Steve was the lesser of the evils of her options, and he had kept more of a level head about her newfound deafness than any of the others. His survivor guilt dilemma had subsided for the time being, and he had gone about treating her as normally as anyone could.

Her day had gone by rather peacefully, a large change from the stress-inducing schedule she'd been on for what seemed like ages. Bruce had shown her how to put in and take out her aids, which had turned out to be slightly less complicated than she'd assumed. Tony had gone about testing said hearing aids, letting her playing around with all of the accommodation features he'd programmed just for her, before sitting on the edge of her bed with her and sharing the rest of Sam's last tub of Rocky Road for lunch as they discussed Pepper's latest obsession with Broadway and future Tower renovations. Any other time, she was asleep or as good as, thanks to the meds that Bruce had given her.

At some point in the day, some sort of transmission had come in from Natasha and Clint's end, written entirely in Russian. Everyone had immediately thrust it in Katniss' direction, Tony claiming he'd pull up Google Translate for the rest of their purposes. Katniss understood the majority of the message, even with her limited knowledge of Russian—learning a foreign language might have kept her occupied in the Tower, sure, but it wasn't exactly the most exciting pastime.  _We'll be there soon. Pierce will pay._ They must have found out about the HYDRA thing from Steve.  _Fight._

Steve was returning from his own shower—he'd already had to uncomfortably sit on the edge of the sink and wait on Katniss to finish with hers just to make sure she didn't accidentally end up with 'death by shower' on her headstone—drying off his arms with a towel as Katniss glanced back up at him. It was getting late; she'd been writing on the notepad that everyone else had used previously and drawing all in the margins to start gaining back as much control over her fine motor skills that she could. She wanted to get back on her feet, train like tomorrow wasn't coming and then fight. Sitting around had never been an option, especially now that she had a reason.

"You tired?" he asked her. His voice sounded a lot differently through the hearing aids; something she'd been told to go ahead and accept before she started using them. She couldn't hear as sharply as she once could, and no matter how high she turned up the volume, it wasn't what she'd grown accustom to her whole life. It wasn't as perceptible and it would never be.

She shrugged. "Not really, I've slept for almost three days. I think it's these meds that Bruce has me on," she admitted. Even her own voice didn't sound like her own.

The lack of a conversation filling the air as Steve went to turn down the makeshift bed that they'd set up earlier that day left Katniss spinning down inside her thoughts. Thoughts about Clint and Natasha, about what was going to happen from here, both physically and mentally, it all seemed like a million different things racing around and desperate to tie at least one solid something down inside her brain, but it wasn't possible. It must have shown on her face, too, seeing as how Steve had already crossed the room with his eyes fixed on her. His face was colored in concern, and immediately she knew that the whole sharing a room business was already beginning to show its dark side.

"What are you thinking?" he asked quietly, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Katniss stared down at her knees, her lower lip captured between her teeth. She was silent; Steve's question would elicit a lot of answers, ones that he probably didn't care much about hearing and ones that she was still struggling to get straightened out in her head. Finally, she responded with the one thing that wouldn't drag Steve down some rabbit hole. "That you sound different. Your voice doesn't sound the same through these," she observed softly.

"You're used to having perfect hearing. Now that you don’t, it's going to be a little different."

"A little agitating, more like it."

She could feel his eyes boring into her, pushing past whatever defense she tried to post up and protect herself behind. That was one of Steve's talents, not just with her, either. He was particularly talented with seeing past the walls up; maybe it had to do with being born in a different time, or maybe it was simply because Steve was always the stronger emotional support fixture. And he had always looked past her like she was made of cellophane, he could see inside her in ways that she was sure Clint and Natasha never would. "Katniss," he muttered. "You're not you."

The edge building up inside her set, and her head snapped up. "When was the last time I was me?" she fired back rhetorically. She couldn't hold the wild agitation for long, falling back to her more demure person. "When, Steve? I don't even know myself."

"This have anything to do with losing your hearing?"

Her hands dragged down the side of her face, a heavy sigh escaping her. "Losing my hearing, Pierce, HYDRA…New York," she admitted half-heartedly. "I can't remember the last time I was myself. I've been living by someone else's rules or I've been rebelling against any rule there ever was set in place. I'm never able to find my medium. I'm just stuck."

Steve shook his head. "That's not necessarily true; I've seen you be you before."

"Steve, I haven't been sure of anything about myself since I was living in Twelve in a cabin where I'd sneak out of the boundaries to hunt for my dinner every night."

He was silent for a moment. "You live in a perpetual state of survival mode, you know that? You always feel like you have to fight your battles by yourself, you're either on your guard or you're hiding behind the facade that makes others think you aren't. I can see what you get from Romanoff, but you're not her, and you're not living to fend for yourself. You don't have to do that; you don't have to feel like you're alone here."

A weary smile spread over her lips as she spoke. "No offense or anything, but I'm really getting tired of you guys reminding me that you're here. I know. I do. But it's not…it's not working. You're never really here like I'd need you to be, you just…I don't know, assume whatever you can offer is what I need."

"Well, what do you need?"

One of her shoulders fell in an unenthusiastic shrug. "Time. Patience. My hearing back, answers, revenge." Katniss ran her hand back through her hair, pushing it out of her eyes so she could see him clearly. "I need a lot of things, Rogers."

"I can give you myself," he offered.

"Don't say that." She was quick to respond, warningly. Those were dangerous things that he was promising, and she knew that well. Steve was the sacrificial type; he always had been, but she wasn't about to watch someone else sacrifice anything else for her. Especially Steve, after all she'd done to him. Katniss wasn't about to ask anyone else to lay down something in her name. She was aware of the stakes, and she had to be prepared to do it on her own, because she couldn't watch someone else get hurt.

Steve, however, was perplexed by her short response. "Why not?"

"Don't say it because you can't. I won't let you." Her voice was already thick, straining to keep her emotions in check. "You…you aren't doing that for me, I'm not going to let you."

His response was gentle, as if he were letting her down as easily as he knew how to. "Katniss, sometimes it's not up to you what we choose to do."

Katniss was burning holes into his skull as she stared at him, her eyes smoldering. "I'm telling you, you can't do that," she muttered.

"Do you trust me?" was his next question. She was puzzled for a moment, her eyebrows knitting together as his eyes met hers. They were blue, almost the color of the ocean on a beautiful day in somewhere paradisiacal, and they were looking at her as if she was the only thing keeping him glued there in that moment. Katniss couldn't recall a time when he'd looked at her like that—New York, maybe it was—and ripples began moving underneath her skin.

"Steve, I—"

"Do you trust me?" he repeated.

She paused, taking a moment to think it through. The obvious answer was yes, of course she trusted him, because she would be an idiot not to. It seemed like everyone trusted Steve. Maybe it was the wholesome superhero image he displayed, maybe it was the fact that he was never someone that he wasn't, or maybe it was because Katniss had enough experience to know that he would save her life a million times and she'd never deserve it, not once. Steve, who never complained about having to take her across the country to keep her safe, Steve, who almost got himself killed trying to get her back, Steve, who could still be absolutely furious with her and would still throw that star-spangled shield over her if danger found them. "I trust you," Katniss finally said quietly.

"Then trust me on this and  _let_ me."

**. . .**

Natasha was sitting out on the front porch—or, what resembled one anyways— wondering when the hell she'd become a 'front porch' kind of woman. She didn't sit around and idly wait on something to pass over her threshold. She always went after it before it made it to her property line, and now she had no choice but to stay put where she was until something happened. So here she was, sitting on the front porch and trying to find something that she could put her attention towards. Nothing about Tony's safe house in DC screamed attention-worthy, at least, in Natasha standards.

The sound of the front door creaked as it opened, signaling Clint's joining her. Clint had been dealing with this in every shade of grief imaginable; he'd been angry a little while longer, resulting in several new scars on his palms that Natasha had had to quietly stitch up over breakfast. He'd clung to her in the night, and she'd gripped onto him just as tightly out of fear the other might disappear if their touch had gone slack any. He'd needed his space during the day, which she could respect. She could understand that, she'd practically invented that. For most of the day, she'd kept to herself, doing her best to dig through the SHIELD back channels and figure out to what extent HYDRA had infiltrated.

She knew that whatever HYDRA had planning was going to be globally devastating—you couldn't expect much less from a former Nazi organization—and she knew that this had to be personal for Rogers. And they were all on hold, until they could grasp some tangible next step. For Natasha, she was just trying to keep her head level while the idleness of her surroundings started to gnaw.

Clint sat down next to her, his knee brushing against hers and their shoulders just slightly touching. He slipped right into the still life she'd placed herself into, as she never took her focus off one of the trees out in the yard. "Quiet night," Clint commented quietly.

"It's driving me crazy."

"I figured it would be."

"You wouldn't come out here unless the kitchen was on fire or you got news." She slowly turned her head in his direction, to see him staring out into the distance. "I don't smell any smoke," she stated plainly.

"I got a hit on Sitwell," Clint replied stiffly.

"Sitwell, the biggest spineless son-of-a-bitch we've ever faced, HYDRA?" It sounded like a joke when it flowed from her lips, but Clint made no move to laugh along with that ridiculous statement. "Why are we running after Sitwell?"

"He was on that ship with you and Rogers; you said it yourself that Sitwell on a launch ship didn't add up to begin with. That shiny, bald head of his is filled with some kind of secrets, and I want to crack it open."

"Figuratively?"

"Literally."

His eyes were steel when they met her green ones, Natasha desperately trying to peel past whatever defense he'd haphazardly shoved up before he'd made himself company. "You want Sitwell's blood on your hands?" she pried. Typically, the roles were reversed, Clint asking her the morally compromising questions, but for some reason, Natasha was still simmering. She was waiting for something to walk into her path, and that was when she was going to strike. Not Clint, though. Clint was ready to fire blindly if he so had to.

"Someone's blood is going to spill, and this time, it's not going to be us."

Natasha's reply was stiff, and as calculated as any other, a true testament to how frightening the persona she was falling into truly was. "I'll call Steve."


	17. dig up the bones

It had been almost two weeks of trying to refocus the spotlight on what was most important, and that was finding the right opportunity to pull the rug out from underneath Sitwell's ass. Clint had thrown himself into wiretapping phone calls, tracking credit card purchases, even a little on the low stalking in person. Natasha wanted to be sure this was done right, what with every eye in SHIELD and HYDRA alike trained to find them the moment they crossed over the threshold of Tony's safe house, probably ordered to shoot on sight if Pierce was the one calling shots.

Natasha knew that she and Clint alone couldn't pull off getting Sitwell one-on-one by themselves, not when Clint said that all the obvious HYDRA rats were herding together for protection and strength in numbers. That was where Sam Wilson came in; Steve talked up the guy any time they were in DC and Natasha knew that he was the only option for this one. She'd already been keeping in touch with him after Banner had decided to be a grade-A dick and tried to keep communications to the bare minimum, as in if the world was ending or Katniss was going into cardiac arrest, so he'd been all for their plan with one exception. A little illegal smuggling was right up Natasha's alley though, and she was always up for a challenge. She and Clint were both in agreement that the minute they got their hands on Sitwell, he was roadkill.

"You know," Clint said, in attempt to stir up a conversation in their rental car, Natasha rolling her eyes the moment his mouth opened. "We might be awhile, and I hear car sex can be quite fulfilling."

"The comms are on," Sam said stiffly, from his spot at one of the outdoor café's tables. "And I don't need to know anything about your freaky spy sex."

"Don't mind Clint, he's just being a horny twelve year old," Natasha replied cheerfully.

"It's a very good thing I love you."

"And it's also a very good thing I have a strong stomach," Sam added dryly. "Ah, shit, here comes the weasel.  _Showtime_."

That must have meant that Sitwell had emerged from his lunchtime meeting, a fine detail Clint had gotten from the extensive hacking and searching. Natasha only nodded at Clint, who slipped out of the car quietly and disappeared down the street of people with an unusual bulge inside his leather jacket.

Natasha listened in on Sam's phone conversation with Sitwell through the comms, the blood boiling in her veins. She'd trusted Sitwell — well, as much of Sitwell as there was to trust — she'd worked with him, he was their head over several missions and she'd been confident that she was putting her life in the right hands, capable and trustworthy hands, and yet she'd signed herself a deal with the devil that probably had her as a target half of the time. Sitwell probably had a hand in weaponizing her daughter, deafening her, leaving her and Steve to die.  _Oh well_ , she thought quietly to herself, biting down on one of her fingernails in order to channel and suppress some of her rage.  _In due time, Sitwell will be a target with legs and one incredibly bald head._

She was amused hearing Sam taunt the guy, a guy he'd never met a day in his life but somehow, was already able to pinpoint as the baddie. Natasha liked that about him; it reminded her of the way she used to tease Steve on his early missions over the comms to the point where his ears went red and he looked as though he could murder her there on the spot, the way she used to taunt her targets.

"You're gonna go around the corner, to your right," she could hear Sam all but croon over the phone. "To your right. There's a grey car, two spaces down. You and I are gonna take a ride."

"And why would I do that?" was Sitwell's faint response.

Natasha could hear the laugh in Sam's tone. "Because that tie looks really expensive, and I'd  _hate_  to mess it up." No doubt that Clint's sniper rifle was now trained on Sitwell and he was beginning to pick up on what was going on. She turned the keys in the ignition, the engine rumbling to life.

"We're about to have company," she muttered.

"Save me a kick to the balls, Tasha," Clint replied.

It took a moment, but sure enough, Sam finally rounded the corner, in his hand the collar of Sitwell's suit and a terribly pale Sitwell. They approached the car, Sam all but throwing Sitwell into the backseat. Natasha looked into the rearview mirror, smiling dangerously at Sitwell. She watched as all the color drained from his face, eyes going wide. "Nice to see you,  _Jasper_ ," she all but sang.

She could hear him swallow hard, and it took everything in her not to laugh in his face.

Clint took the honors of throwing Sitwell across the roof, Sitwell hitting the ground and skidding across the concrete. "Tell me about Zola's algorithm," he growled, advancing on their former coworker, Natasha right behind him.

"Nice to see you too, Barton," Sitwell panted, trying to catch his breath. Clint wasn't pleased with the response.

" _Tell me."_

"I've never heard of it." Natasha rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to slide in front of Clint and kick Sitwell in the ribs while he was scrambling backwards on his hands.

"Wanna tell me what the hell you were doing on the Lemurian Star, then?"

Sitwell pushed his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose, glaring up at the pair. "I was throwing up," he clarified. "I get seasick."

That cut it for Clint, who pulled him back up to his feet and rammed him all the way back to the edge of the building, holding him by the shirt. There was murder in his eyes, Natasha knew, and Sitwell was trying to hold his own against a severely pissed assassin. He wasn't subduing Clint any, the snide smile spreading over his lips. "Is this little display meant to insinuate that you'll throw me off the roof? Because I didn't take that for your style, Barton."

Clint let go of his collar, taking a step back with a sickeningly calm smile on his face. "You're right," he agreed. "It's not." His eyes darted over in Natasha's direction, his face lighting up like Rockefeller Center at Christmas. "But it's hers."

Natasha wasted no time in striding forward, kicking Sitwell square in the chest and watching as he lost his balance, toppling over the edge of the building. His screams followed him down on the way to the ground. She turned her head in Clint's direction, pursing her lips. "You know, I don't think I'd mind car sex after this."

"Fulfilling, I tell you."

It didn't take long for Sam to appear over the side of the building, donned in his Falcon tech holding Sitwell by the scruff of his neck. He glided by, throwing Sitwell back onto the roof. Clint and Natasha turned on their heels, striding in an incredibly terrified Sitwell's direction. Sam's wings retracted as he landed, joining the pair, and Sitwell looked as though he was on the verge of shitting himself.

His hands flew up into mock arrest. "Zola's algorithm is a program…for choosing Insight's targets!" he finally spit out, breathing hard.

Clint's eyes narrowed, arms folding over his chest. "What targets?"

Sitwell looked back up at Clint, the glint in his eyes insinuating that Clint wasn't thinking clearly. Natasha could have decapitated the weasel. "You!" he exclaimed, as if it were the most obvious answer. "A TV anchor in Cairo, the Undersecretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa City. Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who's a threat to HYDRA! Now, or in the future."

"The future?" Natasha barked. "How could it know?"

Sitwell just laughed at them. "How could it not?" he sneered. "The twenty-first century is a digital book. Zola taught HYDRA how to read it." There was an exchange of puzzled looks between Clint and Natasha, Sitwell sighing as he furthered with his explanation. "Your bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, e-mails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores. Zola's algorithm evaluates peoples' past to predict their future."

"And what then?"

Sitwell paled, his mind drifting elsewhere. "Oh, my God. Pierce is gonna kill me," he muttered to no one in particular. Natasha took a step closer to him, dangerous look on her face.

" _What_  then?!"

"Then the Insight Helicarriers scratch people off the list," Sitwell said quietly, glancing up at the agents standing above him nervously. "A few million at a time."

The sound of the wind blowing past was the only thing anyone could hear there on that rooftop.

* * *

It didn't take long before Katniss got tired of being bedridden.

At first, she got used to having the constant rotation of company. Bruce was a common presence in what she'd come to deem her hospital room away from the hospital, taking vitals and running tests. By the time he'd expressed she'd bounced back after her unilateral vestibulopathy after a day and a half more of suffering, she was done with him. Tony stopped in at random intervals, wanting to look at the aids or tweak them or like Bruce, run through more tests. She was glad to see that some of Tony's manic tendencies were still there, as it reassured her some things hadn't changed despite the world had flipped on its axis. Sam often stopped in with pancakes — something she'd never been so grateful for — but just as quickly as he stepped in, he left her with the crazies for company. Needless to say, it took about a week of living in the circuit for her to realize that she was genuinely annoyed with everything that was going on.

Then there was Steve, probably the only person who she could tolerate for more than five minutes at a time — she loved Bruce and Tony, really, she did, but she couldn't take them in large doses any more — who was trying to help piece her back together. As much as she wanted to tell him to let her do it all herself; pull herself out of bed, walk down the stairs, pick up the bow and arrow that Tony had brought and left sitting on the couch for whenever she was ready, she couldn't seem to open her mouth and refuse the help.

Katniss wanted to pick up the pieces herself. She wanted to stand up without anyone's assistance, she wanted to prove to whatever she was up against that she could do this on her own, but for reasons that seemed to be beyond her, her heart had tired out. She wanted the help, even if it was coming from Steve. With Steve, she didn't have to verbalize. All it took was one glance in his direction and he picked up on it. She found herself quietly trusting him, since he somehow got it. Knew that she felt like a wounded and caged animal, that she was itching to escape her surroundings; it didn't take a genius to figure that much out. Every time he was at her side, the words just repeated in her head, over and over again.  _I can give you myself. Trust me on this and_ let _me._ God, she didn't want that. She didn't want anyone else in her life risking everything because of whatever dumb things she got herself tangled into. But Steve was right there at her stubbornness level and try as she might, she knew that was a battle she wouldn't win.

There were more battles on the way, and she was well aware of that. This wasn't playing spies anymore, this was a war, and she was going to fight just like every other time she had. Her physical hindrances were proving to be quite the roadblock in preparing herself; her balance was still a little off and she'd had trouble even firing an arrow without her hands shaking. Her aim was still incredibly off, but she was hellbent on it getting better. She'd work every day if necessary, shooting at targets upstairs on the opposite wall of Sam's self-dubbed Christmas closet until she finally got one to hit the target. She'd had a hand in making this mess, and she was going to set it right even if it killed her.

Sam had left early, before any of them had the chance to wake up, and Tony and Bruce were spending the day away from the house to dig a little deeper into the HYDRA files that they could possibly find hiding on SHIELD's mainframe, in order to keep Sam's safe house safe. That left Steve and Katniss to their own devices.

"Okay," Katniss finally said, throwing the newspaper that she hadn't been reading down onto Sam's kitchen table. "I'm sorry, but we have to get out of this house." Steve didn't argue, just merely lifted his eyebrows as a means of prompting her to continue.

"No one's home, and I have been deemed to stare at this wallpaper until I don't even  _know_ when, but I need fresh air. And don't suggest Sam's four by four backyard. It's not a backyard."

Steve was hesitant, his ever-so-famous expression of concern flashing over his features as he thought on it. "Your parents would kill me," he finally settled on.

"They're banned from seeing me, doctor's orders, apparently."

"Someone could see us."

"No one's caught nearly all of the Avengers piled into a para-rescuer's house in almost two weeks."

It didn't take long after that to sway Steve into going for a morning run, Katniss his form of somewhat-company since she wouldn't be running, and they agreed that going the same route would mean more attention drawn to them. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of finally breaking out of the house, seeing how much the world had changed in two weeks — for all she knew it had ended while she slept the days away — and breathing actual fresh air and not what the ceiling fan generated.

Steve was still incredibly uncomfortable at the thought of leaving her by herself, but after much reassurance and having the burner phone's number already dialed and waiting for someone to hit the 'call' button, he finally jogged off out of sight, leaving her to the odd sound of the world around her and her own thoughts.

She strolled along at a casual pace; she wasn't expecting to go very far, not with her legs still not up to par. The hood on her jacket gave her a little more security, and her hearing aids were turned down quite low so she didn't have to endure the awkward sound of silence. Her mind of course was in a million different places, worrying about Sam, worrying about her parents, worrying about what was going to happen with all this HYDRA business, worrying just to worry, even. She couldn't help it; she'd spent years trying to swallow one very large pill and

It was then that she saw the group of people congregating on the sidewalk outside of a house when Katniss' legs locked up and the blood froze in her veins. Suits meant SHIELD, and she knew exactly what they were there for. Her.

She couldn't move, so she waited with bated breath and prayed silently that they wouldn't turn around and notice her. She was praying for a goddamn miracle if she could get another one. "We're wanted at the Hub, set a course when you get back to the Bus," one of the suits instructed, and Katniss was immediately thrown off her guard.

Face scrunching up in confusion, Katniss took another tentative step forward. Something about that voice was striking her as familiar, but she couldn't for the life of her pinpoint when the last time she'd heard it was. It seemed as though it had been ages. She wanted to blame the supposed recognition on the hearing aids, warping her perception of the surrounding noises and sending her brain mixed signals, but she couldn't shake the feeling that this was something she knew, something that she had experienced before.

"Wheels up in thirty, Coulson, wrap this up and move."

The blood went cold in her veins. Coulson as in Phil Coulson? Coulson had been dead for almost two years, surely this was her mind messing with her. She still remembered the day he died all too vividly in her mind, still remembered the call coming in on her comms, still remembered the numbing grief raging through her system as she shot one of Loki's goons. She remembered standing at his grave, looking down and feeling like someone had replaced her insides with gravel. He had died, and they'd all tried their best to move on for  _his_ sake. This was some sick joke, this was all a mistake, there was no way —

But what her eyes had landed upon wasn't a lie, wasn't some sort of illusion. There was the tell-tale three piece suit that he'd worn every single day, the same stature, and her breath caught in her throat as whoever it was slowly turned around. And sure enough, it was Coulson, and all the wind was knocked straight from her lungs like a punch to the gut.

He saw her too, eyes wide at first and then softening when it clicked as to who she was. She couldn't begin to decipher what she was feeling, it was like all of a sudden any sense and feeling she had had crashed head on into a wall and was spinning with cartoon stars over the head. Her face was colored with every emotion possible, leaving her blank. She felt herself take a tentative step backwards as he made the move in her direction, a thin-lipped smile already spread over his face.

She wanted to say something, anything, to him, because there were a million questions that she had, but there wasn't anything to pull from her throat. Katniss was drawing a blank, her thoughts bouncing around inside her skull with no real coherence, just a jumbled trainwreck. Coulson made the first move in the conversation direction, and she nearly burst into tears at the sound of his voice addressing her. "Katniss," he said quietly.

"You're alive," were the only words she could pull from her ragged throat.

Coulson merely nodded, and Katniss could feel her breath hit the snag in her throat. "You…" she stammered out, her eyes burning with tears. “We went to your  _funeral_."

"I know," he replied. "Probably wasn't the most entertaining event you've ever attended."

Katniss stared at him from underneath her hood, eyes dancing with anger. "Yeah, seeing as how I'm just now learning there was no body."

He looked pained when the words came hurtling from her mouth. Coulson's face was colored in apology as he moved a little closer towards her, so the two of them were within arm's length of one another. "I'm sorry," he apologized, the words sincere as one could possibly make them. She'd heard sorry a million times before, and he knew that. "Fury didn't want for any of you to know. That wasn't my decision."

Fury. Of course he'd had something to do with this, why wouldn't he? She could feel the blood simmer inside her veins, but she tried to put a lid on it. Fury had always been a walking talking bag of secrets, and he probably took innumerable ones with him to the grave. "So none of us know," she said, her voice strangled as she closed her eyes to stop the tears from falling.

"Hill. She had the clearance, she's a Level 7."

"So is Natasha. So is Clint. Natasha came back only to find out you died. Clint thinks he's the reason you're dead," Katniss choked out, her voice barely over a whisper.

A shadow fell over his face, and Katniss knew she'd struck some kind of chord. Clint and Coulson had been close, from what Natasha had told her, with Coulson being their handler since they started at SHIELD. "Those files aren't available to them specifically, they're Avengers. They can't know. You shouldn't know, either." Coulson shook his head, eyes darting around them as if he was afraid someone was watching them.

"Why?" Katniss pleaded. "You're…you're alive, do you know how  _relieved_  they'd be to see you?" She laughed cynically, a tear slipping down her face. "We could really use some good news, Coulson, a hell of a lot's changed since New York."

She wanted to yell at him everything that had happened. She wanted to scream that Tony was suffering from PTSD, that she didn't even remember the last time he'd slept properly because he was haunted by whatever was on the back of his eyelids. She wanted to tell him about Steve running off and working for SHIELD, an institution that was crumbling apart from the inside out and he was dealing with the guilt over flying that plane into the Arctic for nothing. She wanted to completely break down and cry that she couldn't sleep, that she was haunted by everyone she loved dying and getting hurt, that all she did was put other people on the line for her because she couldn't handle herself, that she'd almost been killed god only knew how many times and almost gotten her team killed twice as much, that she couldn't hear on her own and that Fury was dead and that she wished he'd left her alone in Twelve, and she wanted to scream that every single one of them needed him, that his death had driven them all to crazy things and she'd killed people because of it. But she didn't. She instead swallowed around the lump in her throat, putting her best shot at a smile on her face. "I've missed you," she admitted quietly.

Coulson didn't respond, instead reached out and rested one of his hands on her shoulders. His form of a hug, she assumed. "I've missed you," he finally said. "You look so much like your father. Natasha's personality then, I take it?"

She couldn't help but to laugh. "Like you wouldn't believe."

Another glance over her shoulder, and Coulson's face quickly ironed out into that all-business look she hadn't realized she'd missed up until now. "I've got to go," he said, squeezing her shoulder cap before his arm fell back down by his side. "Take care of yourself, okay?

Unable to speak, Katniss just nodded, reaching up and swiping underneath her eyes to keep the tears from falling at a rate that she knew she wouldn't be able to stop. "Will I see you again?"

"You weren't supposed to see me now, so there's no telling." He paused for a moment, eyes grave as he opened his mouth to speak again. Katniss beat him to the chase.

"Your secret's safe with me," she vowed. Coulson gave a firm nod, the edges of his lips tugging into a thin smile as he turned on his heel and began to put distance in between them, back to wherever it was he'd come from. She was frozen to the spot, watching as he walked off.

He'd only made it so far before he glanced back over his shoulder. "You know," he called out. "When I met you, I knew your parents would be proud of you. I knew I was. Don't forget who your real enemy is, Katniss." And with that, Coulson continued on, disappearing from her line of sight in hardly any time. It was as though she'd blinked and he'd vanished into thin air.

She set off back in the direction of Sam's place, keeping her head down and the hood shielding her face as she tried to fight the ridiculous smile on her face. Seeing Coulson again was the eye of the storm, and even though she wouldn't be able to breathe a word to any of the others, she finally felt as if she was holding onto one healthy secret for once. This wasn't a secret that would get someone killed, not a secret that would result in some apocalyptic-scale damage, it was like sunlight was trying to peek through the black clouds once again.

Katniss didn't even make it onto Sam's street before she heard the sounds of a car rolling down the street. There hadn't been any vehicles to drive past her since she'd stepped out of the house, so as she glanced over her shoulder, she felt her guard start to rise. Something was up. The hood fell off her head right as she caught a glimpse of the black van pulling up, coming to a screeching halt right in front of her. Her flight instincts started to kick in, the sound of someone shouting, "It's her!" grabbing her attention. Her eyes went wide as the door behind her opened, and as her head whipped around in the other direction, she found a hand pressing hard over her mouth and another over her eyes. Her captor then pulled her inside the van, door closing neatly behind them almost like nothing had ever happened.


	18. the world turns on

The only way of measuring time was by the breathing scale, and it had been an eternity in Katniss' mind. If she was breathing, it was in shallow, dizzying intakes, and the rest of the time she was holding her breath and trying to keep as still as she could. Any fleeting moment of commentary in the back of her head was ruthlessly beating her up, telling her that she should have  _known_  that something like this was going to happen, that she shouldn't have been so stupid and reckless, but as soon as the overwhelming flood of thoughts arrived, they washed away and left her in silence, quieter than it had been when she lost her hearing.

"Take hers off," she could hear, but only just, the lump in her throat growing at the sound and the thought it evoked. By the time any kind of light flooded her senses, she had resigned herself to a fate of death — either by whoever had grabbed her, or by Natasha the minute she found out about this.

She was in a van, surrounded by masked guards on all sides. Quarters had been cramped, and now that she could see, it was obvious why. A soldier, guard, whatever the hell they were classified as, was in between the rest of the captives that particular van had picked up before they grabbed her. There was one on the outside of Natasha and Sam, both of whom appeared to have gone through the ringer wherever they'd come from, and there was a guard on either side of her, separating her from Steve.

Katniss' eyes locked onto Natasha in an instant, taking no time at all to register that she wasn't okay. Natasha was pale, the circles under her eyes dark and her cheekbones much more prominent. She was clutching onto her shoulder, white knuckled with what appeared to be blood on her palm as she pressed down, a weak smile draped over her lips as she realized her daughter was looking in her way. "Natasha," Katniss stammered out hoarsely, at a loss for anything else.

That earned her a shove in the shoulder from the guard on her left, jamming the butt of his gun into her hard to shut her up. Sam's eyes shot up from wherever he had been focusing and shot the guard a death glare, and had she had any energy, the expressionless look written across Natasha's face would have been terrifying.

"It's okay, I'm fine," Natasha insisted sleepily.

Katniss' eyes darted at Sam, who looked just as unconvinced by that statement. "What the hell happened to you guys?" she asked, earning her another shove from the guard.

"You got one more time to do that," Sam threatened. Peering past the guard to her left, Katniss tried to get a better look at Steve. He had yet to speak up, and judging by the quick glimpse she got before the guard shoved her back in place with her back against the wall, he had might as well seen a ghost.

"Steve…" she trailed off, her voice quiet. She had about a million questions just for him alone; how he'd ended up in this van before her, looking as though he'd been on the battlefield — where Natasha and Sam must have been also — and wasn't quite caught up on any of his surroundings. He was still, lost in whatever spiraling train of thought he'd boarded before she'd been thrown into the mix.

"It was him," Steve mumbled hollowly, to no one in particular. "He looked right at me and he didn't even know me."

"How is that even possible? It was like seventy years ago."

Katniss' eyes flitted back and forth between the conversation, completely lost as to what was going on but didn't want another jab from her particularly pushy seatmate so instead chose to just follow along as best she could. "Zola," Steve answered Sam, never taking his eyes off the floor. "Bucky's whole unit was captured was captured in '43, Zola experimented on 'em. Whatever he did, it helped Bucky survive the fall. They must have found him."

Natasha's weak voice interrupted him, her eyes fluttering as she desperately tried to keep them open. "None of that's your fault, Steve." Typical Natasha, always trying to reassure everyone else that whatever was happening wasn't on them even if those might be the last words out of her mouth. It didn't take any kind of genius to deduct that Natasha was hanging in the balance, and the knot in Katniss' throat tightened at the thought of what could happen. She didn't even want to think like that, didn't want to let her mind cross over into that line.

Sam was quick to voice what the protesting side of her brain was screaming, words she wouldn't have been able to stammer out without choking up or getting shoved again, even worse judging by how many times she'd irritated him so far. He leaned forward, looking at one of the guards. "We need to get a doctor in here. We don't put pressure on that wound, she's gonna bleed out here in the truck."

"Sam —”

There was hardly any time for Natasha to scold him, as one of the guards next to her pulled out what seemed to be an electric rod, one that she'd formerly seen Rumlow try on Steve and jammed it into the side of their partner. Once he was out cold, the guard spun around and neutralized the man on Katniss' right, Katniss pressing flat against the wall as the armed guard threw the electric rod and skillfully hit the guy in between her and Steve, rendering him unconscious within a second.

The look of confusion was unanimous as they watched the guard remove their helmet, a wave of brown hair falling out and a scrunched up expression on Maria Hill's face as the helmet came off and into her lap. No one dared to say a thing, mostly in shock at the fact she was there with them and not lying low in a safe house somewhere. "God, that thing was squeezing my brain," Hill said, in between breaths.

Her eyes flitted around the group, the typical expression fading the minute she landed on Sam. "Who's this guy?" she asked. She didn't wait long before shaking her head in dismissal. "Never mind, we don't have time for that."

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out what looked like an oversized laser pointer. "How do you guys feel about tunnels?"

Katniss couldn't help but to be under the impression Hill's question was rhetorical.

* * *

There wasn't any way of telling where they'd ended up at, all Katniss knew was that it was unbelievably serene compared to the state of emergency she felt like she was running around in. Hill walked a lot faster than Katniss seemed to remember, and it was a good thing her legs were deciding to cooperate today.

Sam had given her the rundown as they power-walked through the woods towards what Hill kept referring to as 'underground', his voice rushed as he tried to get all of it out as quickly as possible. "We'd just gotten Sitwell, on the way to taking him back to one of Clint and Natasha's super-secret spy locations or whatever, and then some guy just came out of nowhere and ripped the fucking steering wheel out of the car. Demolished the car on the freeway and then it turned into an all-out fire-fight. Bastard was wreaking havoc like no one's business, out to kill. He was with HYDRA, no doubt; that was who came to arrest us when it was all said and done. Dude shot your mom, and apparently Steve knew him anyways."

Katniss hadn't even thought twice about where Clint was until Sam had mentioned his name, and then it was like a wave of panic fell over her. Ears started ringing; whether it was the aids or her mind playing a trick on her, the world had gone unnaturally quiet. Her heart was throbbing in her chest painfully, eyes wide as she gripped onto Sam's arm so tight that her nails were digging into skin. "Clint," she gasped, Sam desperately trying to get her to calm down. "Clint, where is he — w-what happened?"

"It's okay, Kat, it's okay, you gotta calm down."

"What happened?"

Sam looked genuinely sympathetic as he answered her, doing his best to keep her from flipping out even more and sending herself into a panic attack. "I really don't know, one second he was with Natasha and the next we lost track of him."

The tears were brimming up in her eyes, her breathing shallow as her mind spun around what he was saying instead of trying to wrap itself around it. "God,  _please_ , Sam, did HYDRA get him?"

"Katniss, if I knew I'd tell you, okay? You gotta calm down, you can't work yourself up. He's Clint, he'll be fine."

She knew that Sam was merely trying to help, she did, but she couldn't fight the anxiety rising in her chest after finding out that there was a possibility Clint was hurt, kidnapped, or worse. The chaos seemed to heighten the closer and closer they got to the underground facility Hill had been referring to, a large iron gate in between what appeared to be life-size storm drain pipes.

Hill had a tight grip on Natasha's bleeding shoulder, almost pushing her along and trying to keep her awake as she opened the gate. Katniss, Steve and Sam were right on her heels, watching Natasha closely slipping away as they tried to take in their surroundings.

"GSW," Hill called out, a man running towards them from inside. "She's lost at least a pint."

"Or two," Sam added.

The doctor met them halfway as they all stormed down the halls, grabbing Natasha's other arm and helping her forward. Katniss found it hopeless to push towards the front where she could get to Natasha, instead hanging back a little in order not to push her legs and try to keep her mind on what was important at the moment without letting her own thoughts consume her. "Let me take her!"

Hill shook her head at the doctor. "She'll want to see him first."

The group rounded a corner, ending up in front of a small room with a glass window. Katniss would have been baffled by the intricate set up of this underground facility inside of something as simple and non-complex as a storm drain pipe, had she not been focusing on the sight on the other side of the glass. Clint was lying on what resembled a hospital bed, the bruises along his jaw dark and lying in such a stiff position that it was only sensible to assume he was hurt.

It felt like all the air had rushed out of her lungs as she sighed in relief, eyes closing so tightly that she could feel the tears burning. Clint tried to adjust himself a little higher on the bed, smiling weakly at the sight of Natasha. "Tasha…" he murmured, so quietly that it could have been confused with the air passing around them.

Natasha tried her best to wriggle from the doctor's grip, but when it became obvious to her that he wasn't going anywhere, she dragged him alongside her into the room without any hesitation. Katniss was right on her heels, shoving past Hill and Steve who had stopped to take in the sight.

By the time Katniss had stepped over the threshold, Natasha had practically dove headfirst into Clint, shaking the doctor off of her. Clint groaned, clearly in pain, but he made no comment for her to move and instead moved his arm as far as he could around her, resting on her back. "я думал, что я потерял тебя," Natasha mumbled into the crook of his shoulder.

"Thought we'd, ah, thought we'd already established that's never gonna happen," Clint gave a small laugh in attempt to lighten the mood, Natasha peeling herself off of her. Whatever small flicker of amusement that had been on his face extinguished the minute he realized just how pale Natasha was, the hole in her leather jacket seeping blood. "Tasha, you're hurt."

"I'm okay," she insisted.

"No, you aren't," Clint protested, wincing at the pain as he tried to adjust himself. "What the hell happened?"

"Winter Soldier," Natasha mumbled drowsily, the side-effects of losing so much blood catching up with her at an alarming rate.

The doctor that had met the group at the door was clearly fed up with all of Natasha's evading past him pushed her down into a chair next to Clint's bedside, giving her a stern look the minute she looked up. "You need to be treated, Romanoff, pronto," he chastised.

"'S Romanoff-Barton," she corrected.

Clint's eyes caught on Katniss once Natasha was in a seat and not blocking the way, and even with her aids in she could hear the breath hitch in his throat. He hadn't seen her since her accident at the bunker, he'd been kept from her ever since because Bruce had ordered it and there was no way to get around his orders especially with such high prices on his and Natasha's heads. Wondering how she was even on her feet was the first rung of the ladder; he didn't comprehend how she had gotten dragged into all his and seemed to be functioning as normally as the rest of them. God only knew it took him all the time in the world to recover from his accident. But here she was, the miracle she proved to be time after time again, in front of him and alive, which was all he could ask for under the circumstances.

"Kat," he muttered out, and Katniss' throat was burning as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. "You're okay."

She nodded. "Yeah, yeah I'm okay," she stumbled through her words, a brief flash of her meeting with Coulson appearing inside her mind. For a moment, she thought of breaking and letting it all fall past her lips, but the thought left as soon as it came once she saw Clint's arms open wide as he could without putting himself through too much pain.

Katniss fell into him in a similar manner as Natasha's, although she had a gentler touch, scared that Clint might crumble underneath her fingertips if she held him too tight. "What the hell am I, dead?" Natasha commented after a moment of their embraced passed.

Pulling herself from Clint's arms, she spun right around and enveloped Natasha into her own, trying not to get in the doctor's way of patching her up and stopping the blood flow. "Прости меня, Пожалуйста," Natasha whispered in her ear. "You should have never been dragged into this from the start."

"Too late now," Katniss muttered cynically.

Hill had slipped into the room, leaning against the doorframe as she watched on quietly. "There's something else you might want to see," she said, making her presence known and grabbing everyone's attention in a heartbeat. Her face said that there was something she'd been holding tight to her chest, and she was expecting the worst with their reactions to what she had to show them. "Keep in mind though, this wasn't my choice."

Natasha slowly rose from her chair, earning her a look of disapproval from the doctor trying to finish tending to her wounds and instead being met with even more delays. "Show us," she said, sounding much more like herself than she had over the past hour or so.

Katniss had barely made it out of the room before she stopped to look over her shoulder at Clint. "Are you not coming?" she asked.

The smile on Clint's face was almost apologetic. "No reason to. I already know what other secrets are rooming here."

His cryptic words racked her brain as she followed the rest of the small group, finding herself beside Steve. He glanced in her direction, the first attempt he'd made at acknowledging her presence since she wound up in the van with everyone else. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice lower than usual.

Rubbing the tops of her arms, she nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay," she stammered out. Her voice dropped, in attempt to keep the conversation strictly between the two of them. "Wanna talk about what happened?"

For a moment, it looked as though Steve was genuinely considering her offer, until his eyes drifted away from hers to see why they'd all stopped walking. He froze in his tracks, Katniss curiously glancing up to see what it was that had caught his attention. Once she did, she understood the shock.

There was Fury, lying on a hospital bed, alive as she was.

"About damn time," he said, voice muffled through the glass.

Hill wordlessly ushered them into his room, a room that was much larger than Clint's by all means, once she was able to shake them out of their frozen state and get them moving. Natasha nearly collapsed in the first seat she came across with the help of the doctor tending to her shoulder, her eyes cold and never once drawing away from Fury. Katniss found herself leaning up against the wall behind where Natasha was sitting down, unable to bend her legs to sit without feeling like she was breaking at the joints.

Fury started speaking, going through the laundry list of injuries he had sustained in order to break the heavy silence. "Lacerated spinal column, cracked sternum, shattered collarbone, perforated liver, one hell of a headache."

The doctor trying to patch up Natasha looked up briefly to add, "Don't forget your punctured lung."

"Oh, let's not forget that," Fury agreed. "Otherwise, I'm good."

The glare on Natasha's face hadn't changed a bit, and now that she'd regained some color in her face she looked more like herself, positively terrifying as she stared down Fury. Katniss wasn't quite sure how Natasha was taking this; it had left her in a place Katniss had never seen her mother in once word of his death got to her, and now that he was alive had to be fucking with her brain. If it was, she was determined to play it off as her usual steely demeanor. "They cut you open, your heart stopped," she deadpanned.

"Tetrodotoxin B," Fury explained. "Slows the pulse to one beat a minute. Banner developed it for stress. Didn't work so great for him, but we found a use for it."

"Why all the secrecy?" Steve piped up from the corner, not bothering to look up from his intent gazing at the floor. "Why not just tell us?" If she wasn't mistaken, Katniss could have sworn she heard Natasha scoff.

"Any attempt on the director's life had to look successful," Hill clarified.

"Can't kill you if you're already dead," he added. "Besides, I wasn't sure who to trust."

It was like he'd thrown a blanket of silence over the entire room, Natasha leaning back in her seat as the doctor finally finished his work, her scowl never vanishing. Katniss knew that whenever trust was involved, it wasn't to be taken lightly. After all, they'd all almost died in the name of it, and it was probably the only reason any of them were still alive.

Funny, how trust worked. She guessed Fury didn't see it quite like she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:
> 
> "i thought i'd lost you."
> 
> "please, forgive me."


	19. eye of the storm

Katniss had been awkwardly fiddling with the end of the strings on her sweatshirt, sitting outside of Clint's holding room while the on-site doctor did another routine vital-taking. Things had been incredibly awkward post-Fury reveal, and everyone cleared the room the minute they realized she wasn't staring at him with any kind of awe twinkling in her eyes at the miracle, but rather, was sending him to his  _actual_  grave. She'd decided on giving Clint a little company, even if he wasn't truly up to it. Katniss needed it.

She'd been living inside of her head for much too long, especially since her accident. Life had been swirling around her as she circled the drain, things taking such a drastic turn over the past few weeks that she was struggling to coin a term to define her life. New York had been simpler, she thought to herself as she sat outside with her head buried in her hands. The enemy was definite. They knew who they were fighting, and within a few days, were all on the road to a physical recovery. Sure, the healing mentally was still taking its time to catch up, but at least it had been easy to pick up on a new routine.

This was a war that kept changing. Battle lines fluctuated, everyone had the potential to be the one to turn a gun, and not even aliens were as terrifying as whatever Insight was hiding. That was probably the worst part of it all, fighting blindly against something that had higher chances of not even being real. Add into the mix that Steve was still utterly shell-shocked over the Winter Soldier actually being Bucky, Natasha had a gaping bullet wound in her shoulder, Fury who was supposed to be dead was alive, Clint was strapped down to what she assumed was a stolen hospital bed, Tony was off fighting an  _entirely_ different enemy, it seemed, and here she was, deaf and feeling helpless as ever. She felt the exact way Steve had looked in the van on the ride over.

Bucky was one of his favorite topics, back when the two of them could sit around and tolerate each other. Bucky had been more than a best friend, the way that Steve talked about him, he was more like a brother. When Steve had lost him that day on the train, it had nearly killed him inside. He'd gone to the ends of the earth and back to find him, to make sure that he was alive, and no sooner than he'd gotten his best friend back did he lose him. Now of course, only to find out that he'd been kept on ice, waking up only when HYDRA needed him to execute an order — or rather, someone. She found it a horrible parallel.

Her head still cast downwards, she hardly noticed that she herself now had company, in the form of the one person that her head had been doing tailspins around.  _Think of the devil and he shall appear_ , she internally muttered to herself. A rigid silence built up around them in no time; Katniss wasn't sure what to say to him, and she already knew that expecting any conversation on his end was about as likely as Thor returning to Earth at the drop of a hat. They'd been doing so well, too. She had found a place where she still wasn't pleased with him, but she could do it at a distance where she didn't constantly want to rip his vocal cords out. And now, she found herself on the outside of another glass wall. One step forward, two steps back.

One thing, however, was troubling her. How Steve had gotten tangled up in the mess to begin with. For fuck's sake, all that had happened was a simple morning run where they turned on different paths, and it had gone straight to hell in no time _. It's impossible for you to stay away from a fight_ , she thought, chuckling bitterly to herself. She didn't even realize the words were spilling from her mouth out loud until it was too late, Steve's full attention trained onto her.

"What?" he muttered quietly, voice barely above a whisper. Talking must not have been on the agenda for the next few hours.

Face flushing, she averted her eyes back down towards her hands. She hadn't felt this small around him in years; even when she'd first met him she was stepping on his toes and challenging him, and now this. "You," she pointed out softly. "A fight always finds you. Wars do. Maybe it's just the soldier in you, or maybe it's just how you operate because you don't know anything else. I can't figure it out."

She hadn't realized just how much of herself she was bearing onto him, all her inner thoughts spilling over like a faucet. Katniss dared to glance up, only met with Steve's eyes locked on her.  _Shit, now I've really done it. Bring on World War Four._  "Me either," he finally admitted, to her complete and total surprise.

Pulling herself up a little bit straighter, she wasn't about to stop there Implore she would. "What do you mean?"

Steve sighed, staring at his extended hands. "It's…complicated to explain."

"No one knows complicated better than I do," Katniss insisted gently.

"Bucky," he finally admitted, and she knew exactly where this derailing train was headed. "Ever since I woke up, even  _before_  then, I had to live with the knowledge that he was dead. Gone. I thought I died with HYDRA, I thought  _sacrificing_ myself would mean that it was in exchange for something good. And now, right when I feel like things have been on the path to a semi-normal life, the past jumps right out at me, everything that I don't want to see. HYDRA coming from the shadows. Bucky…Bucky being one of them. He's better off dead," he said, voice strangled. Steve's face was twisted, hands dragging down his cheeks in wrought. "He'd be better off dead."

Katniss couldn't find any words nestling in the back of her throat. The way that Steve talked unstitched wounds she'd desperately compartmentalized for two years, trying to forget about whenever it sprung at her in her nightmares that she never could shake. She remembered the lifeless look in Gale's eyes at the top of Stark Tower, taunting her within an inch of her life, forcing her to choose and live with the guilt of it every single day. Him or her, it was him or her and she picked herself. Now here she was, realizing that Steve had found his way into her shoes all those years ago, and wondering what choice he'd make when it all boiled down.

Her gut was telling her that it would not be the same decision she made.

"He's not your Bucky," she reminded him, resting one of her hands on his shoulders gently, as if she feared the touch alone would turn her fingers into ash. "Just…just like with Gale; it's not them in there. At least, it's not them in control. You don't know how far gone he is."

"I have to believe that he's in there  _somewhere_ ," Steve snapped almost instantly. "I have to."

"Okay," Katniss agreed. This would be where she fought back, slapped sense into his head that there were hard choices and this was one of them, that taking Bucky out was better for everyone, him included. She wanted to scream that she understood what she was going through, and that she'd made the horrible call and had to live with the blood on her hands, even if it was all an Asgardian's fault to begin with. But she remembered how he'd been when she made her call, how he had never told her it was the wrong thing to do, never once questioned her, and almost felt it a necessary evil to let him run his own course with this. Her hand stayed firm on his shoulder. "Okay."

She felt one of his hands slip up to where hers was, clutching around the sides of her palm. Like she was keeping him tethered to reality, and she tried to ignore her stomach lurching inside of her throat.

* * *

"She's bad," Clint muttered under his breath, eyes fixed on how Natasha's hand was loosely entwined with his own. "I see it, Tash, everything that I went through is written on her face."

It wasn't much of the private moment the two of them had been aiming for; the upper half of Natasha's torso was all but exposed as the doctor changed out her bandages and went about putting a temporary fix to the bullet lodged in her shoulder. Nonetheless, they were both alive and they weren't drowning in noise from others, so it was as much of a private moment that they'd get holed up in an off-the-grid cave.

Natasha winced, her fingers tightening around Clint's as the flesh around her entry wound was fondled with, hurting her more than she'd ever bother to admit. "This was never her battle, and she's neck deep in it. Ever since the beginning, with Pierce showing up at that party of Tony's. Did I screw up, letting her run off to live with him? He wasn't in any better shape than her–”

"Tasha," Clint interrupted, desperate to silence her. "When did you start doubting your choices on anything? That's not you. It's never  _been_  you, so why are you starting now?

"She's  _deaf_." The words came out harsher than intended, through Natasha's ground-together teeth and not just from the pain emitting from her shoulder. "She's deaf, she's got one good leg left to her, she's…she's running around with us like she can keep up with us, but she can't. Fury was stupid to even pull her for the Initiative, if it weren't for  _him_ …"

"Well, maybe next time don't run off and let everyone believe you've been dead for five years." The dry comment earned Clint a harsh glare; one he probably deserved, but enough to send him holing six feet under himself.

"You can't keep doing this either," Natasha quietly pointed out, the daggers fading from her eyes. "You're not…you're not the Clint you were years and years ago."

"Are you implying that I'm old?" The joking tone in his voice was his attempt of deflecting any kind of serious conversation – he'd had enough  _seriousness_  to last him a lifetime all rolled into one day – but she, of course wasn't having it.

Her lips drew up into a thin line. "'S a matter of fact, I am," she said roughly. "Look at you, you're all bent out of frame after one little fight in the middle of the street, you're just as shaken up as she is, if not more – "

"–for the record, we were  _ambushed_  –”

"I cannot lose you." Natasha's voice was hard, and he knew right off the bat this was more than just her commenting on his inability to keep up with the game. She wasn't doubting his skill, questioning his abilities; her emotions were right underneath the surface and her mask had worn thin after all that they'd gone through. It was getting harder and harder for her to walk around like the made-of-steel kind of woman she was, and every other day with her, Clint saw her start to wear away at the seams. The way she spoke told him that this was not her simply in a moment of need, but a threat. He knew better than anyone if she lost him, she'd bring him back only to kill him herself.

That didn't mean he'd reached his breaking point, had had enough of it. "You think I could deal with losing you?" Clint fired back. "Do you think that it was easy for me when you just up and disappeared in Budapest, letting everyone think you died? Seriously, Nat, do you  _honestly_  think that if I lost you, I'd be okay?"

"And  _this_  is why I try to not fucking care," Natasha interrupted venomously under her breath, disregarding his spiel. "Attachments always lead to pain."

Clint's expression softened, his hand tightening around Natasha's. "Not this time." Her face fell, giving him a look that said that she wasn't buying in on anything spewing from his mouth. "You can't shut everyone out when a war breaks; that's not protecting people, Natasha. All it does is hurt you more when you pretend you don't care, and that's exactly how people find out what your weakness is."

"Loki knew what would keep you in line and he didn't even have to  _meet_  her, Clint. It's why Pierce used her, because he knew that she'd be the one to tear us apart from the inside out. Fury dragging her into this mess was the exact reason I didn't want her coming off the grid in the first place. Everyone knows that she's our weakness, and that's exactly who they're going to go for. She's out, and if you know any better, you'll sit this one out too."

"And I'm telling  _you_ , we stick together, or we don't do this at all. Dividing doesn't necessarily mean we conquer," Clint snapped. He meant well, and Natasha knew it. Instead, she was struggling to see past the brick wall she'd skillfully hoisted back up in front of her eyes the minute emotions entered the picture.

"Now is not the time for your Steve-inspired pep talks, Clint, talk to me when you're  _not_  in a hospital bed getting bandaged up because of some vigilante street fight."

He scoffed. "That's rich, coming from the woman with a hole in her shoulder."

Before she had the chance to let another crafted retort fall from her lips, the sound of the door creaked, signaling its openness and the entrance of another person to whatever party they were having. Dark hair fell around the frame as Katniss peeked around, Clint and Natasha's eyes honing in on her almost instantly. All eyes were on her, and the regret of her decision hit her in the face almost instantly. "Everything okay?" Clint asked, his voice strangled as he plastered on an obviously fake smile on his lips.

"We're…um, we're debriefing in the other room," Katniss said awkwardly, the bubble of tension now enveloping her as well. She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. "They kinda need you."

Clint made a move to get up, only for Natasha to push him right back down. The harsh glare he sent her way would have been enough to drive another hole right through her body. "I'll give you the rundown after," she said, her teeth gritted together. That was code for,  _this conversation is nowhere near over._ He didn't say a word as she followed Katniss' lead, out of the room.

"Things tense?" Katniss asked timidly, already certain of the answer judging by the pace Natasha was bounding at.

"You have no idea."

Already waiting inside of another one of the rooms in this place – because really, how many nooks and crannies could a cave have? – was the rest of the group, sitting around a small table. Natasha fell into a seat closest to the door, clearly uninterested in this gathering with it scribbled all over her face. She purposefully avoided Fury's eyes; Katniss knew that she was pissed, and she knew Natasha was one that had a deadly sort of anger that got progressively worse the longer she let it simmer.

Fury was sitting next to Hill; how the hell they'd gotten him out of his bed and into that chair without him simply falling to pieces, Katniss had no idea. In his hands was a photograph, staring at it almost wistfully. "This man declined the Nobel Peace Prize," he mused. "He said, 'Peace wasn't an achievement, it was a responsibility.' See, it's stuff like this that gives me trust issues."

Leaning up against the wall was Steve, arms folded over his chest and leaving him even more closed off than before. "We have to stop the launch," was his response, clipped off and cold.

Fury made a face. "I don't think the Council's accepting my calls anymore." In front of him sat a case, which he went about flipping the switches off of them and revealing its contents to the rest of the room. Sitting in black velvet were three computer chips, no bigger than one of Katniss' arrowheads.

"What's that?" Sam asked, voicing everyone in the room's thoughts before they had the chance to formulate them into words.

"Once the Helicarriers reach three thousand feet, they'll triangulate with Insight satellites becoming fully weaponized," Hill explained.

"We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own."

Hill nodded, adding onto Fury's comment. "One or two won't cut it. We need to link all three carriers for this to work, because if even one of those ships remains operational, a whole lot of people are gonna die." Katniss glanced back over at Steve, whose eyes were fixed on the floor.

"We have to assume everyone aboard those carriers is HYDRA. We need to get pass them, insert the server blades, and maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what's left…"

"We're not salvaging anything," Steve cut in, his voice colder than usual. "We're not just taking down the carriers, Nick, we're taking down SHIELD."

Fury was quick to respond. "SHIELD had nothing to do with it."

"You’re giving me this mission, and this is how it ends. SHIELD's been compromised, you've said so yourself. HYDRA was right under your nose and nobody noticed."

"Why do you think we're meeting in this cave? I noticed."

"And how many paid the price before you did?"

"Look, I didn't know about Barnes." This was as close as an apology Katniss had ever heard Fury come close to uttering out; whether the man didn't believe in them or was just entirely incapable of spilling one for the sake of his pride. She'd never heard the words sorry, and she knew if that was what Steve was waiting on, he'd never hear it. Fury would  _actually_  die before that happened, and something told her that everyone in the room, Fury included, knew this.

"Even if you have, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalized that too? SHIELD, HYDRA, it all goes," Steve said, no room for argument judging by the tone of his voice.

Katniss felt like she was watching a game of ping pong, eyes flitting back and forth between Fury and an obviously agitated Steve. "He's right," Hill interjected. Fury's line of sight directed to Natasha, who was still shooting him daggers with her eyes. She didn't say a word, just simply leaned back in her chair. No doubt that the minute Natasha got her hands on a moment alone with him, her words would be just as sharp as her looks.

The minute he knew Natasha was a moot point, Fury glanced over at Sam. His response was a mere shrug. "Don't look at me. I do what he does, just slower."

Attention refocused itself back on Steve, Katniss' gaze following with the rest without even a second thought. "Looks like you're giving the orders now, Captain," Fury commented, his open-ended statement leaving the power in Steve's hands.

Before Steve could get his mouth open, the sound of a buzzing interrupting the silence in the room. Natasha's eyebrows furrowed together, swatting away the newfound attention of her doctor as she wiggled around, desperate to pull what appeared to be the burner phone from her pocket. She finally managed to get it out and in front of her, sliding the answer button. Tony's voice rang out over the speaker.

"President is in danger. Pepper's in danger," he said, almost as if it weren't really him. Chances are, it wasn't, and was merely a recording he'd had sent their way, but it still raised the hairs on the back of Katniss' neck. "Sending you coordinates; reinforcements, goddammit, I need  _reinforcements_. Assemble the Avengers – or what's left of us, anyways."


	20. games

"I have his coordinates, we're locked in somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, I think?"

"Romanoff, slow  _down_  –"

"Is Clint suiting up? I can go get him –”

“–  _no_ , Katniss, for the last time, you're not going; you're barely stable on your own two  _feet_ , much less with a weapon –"

"We need to figure out what the hell is going on before anyone goes anywhere."

" _Hey!_ " The sound of Hill's voice reverberating through the tunnels of the cave was enough to silence the rest of them. Everyone was already set on edge, Tony's message the little nudge they needed to throw all caution to the wind. Seemed like a good enough excuse, anyways. Their eyes fell on Hill, most of which were wide and on the verge of popping out of their sockets they were so high strung. "Can we all just take a minute to calm down and think about this?"

"Think about what?" Natasha asked, bewildered. "You heard the recording. Avengers assemble. We can't just  _ignore_  the fact we got the message. We go."

"Romanoff, you have a hole in your –”

"Yes!" Natasha cried out in exasperation, the last few shreds of her cool snapping. "I am very aware of the fact that there is a hole in my shoulder where a bullet went through it, and even if I wasn't able to feel the physical pain, I would know judging by how many times you assholes have brought it up over the last hour  _alone_!"

"She's right," Steve interrupted. "Romanoff, you're in no shape to go."

Natasha was feral as she closed in on Steve, finger wildly jabbing at his chest. "You do not get to dictate whether or not I go out into the field, you do not get to tell me what missions I go on! You're not my partner." It didn't take any kind of genius to figure out she was referring to Clint; Katniss had the gut feeling that Clint would have made the exact same comment, although she didn't dare breathe that thought out into the open.

Steve returned the hostility, spinning on her and backing her against one of the walls. "You don't owe Stark anything!"

" _Yes I do!_ " she barked a little too roughly and a little louder than even she expected, startling Katniss. A wave of eerie calm washed over her the minute the words rolled off her tongue, Natasha squaring her shoulders and swallowing hard. "Yes I do."

Turning on her heel, it didn't need any more speculation that Natasha was in on this one. There was no talking her out of it. Steve sighed, running a hand through his cropped hair as he faced Katniss. "Kat –”

"No way," she growled. "I might not be of much use, but I'm more useful with you than I am here alone. I refuse to be Fury's  _babysitter_."

"And I take it Clint's going to want to come as well," Sam piped up, voice dry. "Kinda twisted family outing, don't you think?" Both Steve and Katniss tore their eyes away from glaring at each other to redirecting it in his direction. He raised his hands in innocence. "I'll go get the man."

That left just Steve and Katniss alone, Katniss casting her gaze downwards as she started off in the same direction as Natasha. One of Steve's arms popped out, pushing her back so she was back in front of him again. "I need to go after her," she said quietly.

"You do not have to do this," he whispered. "This is not your battle anymore, we agreed on that earlier. You do not have to follow after your parents into battle."

"Steve." While there was a sad smile dancing in her eyes, her tone of voice was much sharper. "This is my  _family_. I spent the last two years living with Tony and Pepper; I can't not go help them. Most of this is my fault, anyways."

"It is  _not_  your fault –"

"Besides, Avengers assemble, right?" she cut in, not letting him finish.

"Maybe…" he trailed off, Katniss' eyes narrowing.

"Maybe  _what_?"

His hand snaked around the back of his neck, rubbing at it sheepishly. Whatever it was that was occupying his mind clearly wasn't something he was ready to admit. All the more reason for him to spit it out, in Katniss' mind. "Maybe…" he started, trying to carefully pick and choose his words, too neat and precarious of a process for Katniss to care about at the moment. “Maybe you need to let this be the end of your run as an Avenger. Permanently."

Her ears were ringing at the words; granted, it seemed they were always in a permanent state of ringing in her head, but now it was as though her mind was dizzying at the concept. End of her run as an Avenger. The words were almost hysterical, humorous. Some kind of  _joke_. No, she was as much a part of this team as him; if anything, she'd been the one who helped form it. She'd been right there beside Fury the day they grabbed him at that gym in New York, handing him the file on the Tesseract. She'd been the one who stood there in New York, nothing more but mere survival skills on her hands to help keep aliens from invading the earth, and sacrificing a clean bill of health, a scratch-free record, and dreamless sleeps to make sure people stayed safe. She sacrificed every part of who she was, knowing she'd step into a stranger's skin the minute she stepped foot on the battle field knowing what the stakes were, and she did it anyways. And now, she was the one that was deemed strong enough to rip the entire team apart, just because of how detrimental she was, how  _influential_ and  **powerful**  she was within their ranks. Was Steve just trying to keep the damage to a minimum? Either way, her blood was simmering under her skin.  _End of her run, permanently._ Katniss knew what it was the end of, alright. Her tolerance with being treated like she was still made of glass, still unable to call the shots for herself.

Out of instinct, she reached out and shoved him out of the way, hard. He might've hit the cave wall, he might not – to her, it didn't make much of a difference. "Fuck you," she spat.

To think, they'd been doing  _so_  well.

"Katniss," he sighed, already in her rearview mirrors as she stomped off in the same direction Natasha had disappeared to earlier.

"You know, Steven, maybe this needs to be the end of us," she drawled out dramatically, holding her hand up over her shoulder and delightfully informing him of what number she considered him. The rest of her words came out in a venomous spiel, mocking his comments only a few moments prior. "You know,  _permanently._ "

Finding Natasha was easy; all Katniss had to do was look for the hurricane with red hair trying to scramble the hybrid child of a Quinjet docked in the depths of the cave. She wondered just how wide this small little cave expanded, and what other random treasures it was holding.

Natasha was, as expected, a flurry around the small loading area, trying to hustle past Hill and make sure things were accounted for. "Me, Rogers, Clint," she muttered to herself, counting off the names on her fingers. She lifted her head at the sound of footsteps on the dock, eyes narrowing the minute she saw it was Katniss.

" _You_  are not –”

Katniss held her hand up to silence her mother. "Don't fight me on this. You go, I go. I owe Tony just as much as you do," she added, her voice dropping to keep the comment between the two of them. Natasha sighed impatiently.

"First Clint, now you, why is this team so damn  _stubborn_?" she mused to no one in particular.

"To be fair, she's half yours," Clint's voice rang out, fiddling with an arrowhead. Katniss' eyes met his, and he shot her an approving smile. At least there was one person who was glad to see her.

Natasha scowled, before vanishing inside the jet. Hill took her place, arms folded over her chest as she looked Clint over nervously. "Barton, I don't like this," she noted.

Clint shrugged. "Most the shit you've sent us on before has been worse. I try not to think about the negatives."

"And if it's a trap?" Leave it to Hill to play devil's advocate.

"Then I hope that all that other shit you've sent us on has taught me well." Clint's lips were drawn up into a thin smile, returning to his arrows.

"Here," Natasha spat at Katniss as she whirled back through, shoving something at her. Her reflexes a little slow, she didn't even catch the bow and arrow until it was already in her grasp. It had been ages since she'd seen this; usually, she practiced with her rec bow and arrow. The last time she'd picked this up was New York, when Coulson had it fit especially for her, initials engraved and all. "My guess is, HYDRA got their hands on your old artillery bow and arrow. I guess you're going to need it now."

Fear washed over Katniss like a tidal wave. She hadn't thought about firing a bow ever since her incident at the bunkers. Sure, she'd had a little help from Steve getting accustomed to picking up a bow again and working on her stance, but sending an arrow flying and having somewhat decent aim when she does so? They might as well tie a blindfold over her eyes and send her off marching. Her hands trembled as she ran her fingers along the curve of the bow, desperately trying to reach into that natural muscle memory of firing a bow, trying to pull it to the forefront of her mind, but the only thing she was able to get a grasp on was how shaky and unstable she was. Maybe proving something to Steve hadn't been the best idea; it would go over much smoother if she was still confident in her shooting.

"Katniss." Clint's voice was steady, shaking her out of the inner panic bouncing around inside her head. Her eyes met his; already flashing her a look that was screaming for her to calm down. "Everything's going to be fine." She couldn't pull any words from the back of her throat, so instead, she resorted to nodding a few times.

Steve's feet were heavy as he stomped his way up the loading ramp, steely determination scrawled over his face. He didn't even bother to flash any attention in Katniss' direction, something she felt rather thankful for. Instead, she tucked her head down, going about sorting through her quiver and seeing just how many arrows she had. Maybe the feel of an arrow against the tips of her fingers would bring about a more effective method of remembering all those times she'd killed for food, how she'd easily gotten better on her own, how inheriting sharp aim was something that could only be perfected with practice. Fairly certain that the rest of the people on board wouldn't appreciate her doing a bit of last-minute warming up would not approve, she kept running her fingers along the metal arrowheads, trying to tune out Steve's voice. "Barton, Romanoff, I'm assuming you're flying?"

"I'm flying, she's going to sit in the passenger seat and pray that her wound heals in the time it takes us to get to that impounded oil rig," Clint said quite cheerfully, pulling himself off his seat and trekking towards the front of the Quinjet. Katniss' eyes followed him closely, observing how he maneuvered his way into the pilot's seat and how ice seemed to spread over the dashboard the second he sat next to Natasha.

"So that makes for five of us," Steve noted. "Romanoff, try to see if you can get into any contact with Stark? Reach out, tap wires, I don't care what you have to do. We need to know what we're walking into."

"On it, Cap," Natasha replied, uninterestedly. A few seconds in and already Katniss could feel her doubts sinking in about this impromptu, jet-setting mission. It didn't take any kind of rocket scientist to see that they were all equally and royally hacked off with each other, and a lack of unity meant nothing but failure. More nervous fiddling with her arrows, trying to keep her rampant thoughts at bay.

"You alright, kid?" Sam said, nudging her in the elbow as he took the seat next to her. Katniss glanced back up, a thin-lipped smile already drawn on her face.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she answered, not entirely positive in the answer she'd given him. The sound of the ramp closing tore her attention from Sam, signaling their departure from the ground.  _And now we wait,_  she thought to herself cynically, the bow awkwardly resting in her lap and an even awkward air radiating off of Sam.  _Now we wait._

Running circles in her head the whole flight was the thought of Pepper and Tony, the thought of them being in some kind of danger that meant the Avengers needed to be assembled. It didn't surprise her much that the president was involved in some way; that sounded like the kind of job for them. Wrapping her mind around why they were in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean on an oil rig was the more confusing aspect. She wondered if this had to do with those bombings that Tony had been dealing with earlier on in the month, if he’d finally cracked the case and this was it all coming to a head. Were they really walking in to fight off some bad guy, another villain in their complicated story, one who Pierce made look a lot like a cartoon character? Or was this just going to be the beginning of the showdown with HYDRA?

The time ticked by slowly, Katniss routinely picking up her arrow and drawing back just for practice. It was stiff and uncomfortable, almost exactly how she'd remembered SHIELD's bows, add to the fact that she was still trembling and the lack of surprise if her balance was still off. The string was tight, her hands still shook, and she lowered the bow every time, completely discouraged. Steve attempted to catch her eye a few times, the even fewer times she locked on she was greeted with an expressionless glare. She swore she felt her lips turn up into a snarl.

"Alright, party time!" Clint called out from the front of the Quinjet what seemed like an eternity later, Katniss' head shooting straight up at the sound of his voice. Sam was the first to stand up, hands on the ceiling as he made his way to the front of the Quinjet. From her seat in the back, all Katniss could see was the expanse of black sky, not a single star or cloud in sight. It made things that much more unnerving.

"Plan?" Sam asked, looking back up over his shoulder at Steve.

"It pains me, but we follow Stark's lead." Katniss had to suppress the laugh that was rising in her chest at the irony of Steve handing Tony the reins of control.

"You hear that Stark? Rogers gave you control," Natasha translated. Her aids didn't pick up on Tony's probable cheering at the fact, but Katniss smiled at the thought. "Now how the hell do we park this boat without not, you know,  _being noticed_? Since you want us to be secretive and shit."

"Sam and I are jumping," Steve interrupted.

"Count me in." Nearly every eye was put back on her, and  _now_  Katniss could hear Tony's protesting comments as he tried to figure out why the hell all the sound had been sucked from the Quinjet. "What?" she said, shrugging nonchalantly. "You people act like I can't  _hitch a fucking ride_."

"Well next time, spare us the heart attack and just say that," Clint mused, attention focusing back on the skies.

Katniss made no move in any direction, her eyes glued on Steve. The two of them were sizing up the other; obviously, she wasn't going to hop on his back and take the plunge of death unless Sam bailed on her, and even then she'd rather take her chances. Right back where they'd been, right back to square one, and she wondered if this is what Pierce had been aiming for all along. Tearing them apart from the inside using her. The attack at the bunker, ambushing them in the streets, picking Katniss up along for the ride, it all made  _sense._

Unfortunately for her, her revelation wasn't on the priority list for everyone's ears, Sam resting a hand on her shoulder that shook her out of her inner thoughts. "I gotcha, kid," he assured her. The both of them watched as Steve stalked off in the opposite direction towards the now lowering launch ramp, strapping his shield to the back of his uniform.

"Is it bad that I feel the burning urge to push him off the ramp?" Katniss yelled over the sound of the wind infiltrating the Quinjet, both of them still watching Steve prepare to jump.

Sam snickered. "Not at all."

Steve dived off the ramp, almost too gracefully as he disappeared from sight. That meant Sam and Katniss were up. Stretching his arms out as though he were about to give her a hug, he glanced down at whatever contraption was currently strapped to his chest. "Keep your hands on my lower back," he advised. "Don't want my party trick to leave you without any hands."

She nodded, the two of them embarking on their drop. Making her way down the ramp, she forgot how unnerving this was, how her feet felt like they were nailed to the floor as she peeked over the edge of the ramp. Nothing, as expected. For a moment, her ears pricked up at what she thought was Natasha's voice. Sam nudged her arm and brought her back to reality, strapping his goggles over his face. "You ready?" he yelled over the wind, barely audible.

Holding his arms out again, Katniss quickly folded into his embrace. "Ready."

And then, nothing.

Wind rushed through her ears, her hair whipping around her as the two of them made their descent. She watched as Sam's wings deployed in awe, making for a much smoother ride down to the grounder. The last time she'd felt any kind of flying sensation close to this, it had been ages. The adrenaline was surging through her veins; granted, she knew there would be an unpleasant crash before she knew it, but for the time it was nice to greet her old friend. They beat Steve to the end, already smoothing out their clothes and making sure their weapons weren't in any uncomfortable and compromising places by the time he dove onto the ground with them.

"Any signs of Stark?" he asked the two of them.

No sooner had the words rolled off his tongue did Tony Stark round the corner, man on a mission written all over his features. That was, until he spotted them. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he awkwardly shuffled over to where they were.

"What the  _hell_?" he hissed once he was close enough to be within earshot.

"You rang," Steve muttered dryly.

Disregarding Steve's comments entirely, Tony's focus zoomed in elsewhere. "Kit-Kat, what the hell are you doing here?" Tony breathed out, as if he wasn't pleased to see her as opposed to the others. She grimaced.

"Nice to see you too, Tony."

"I'm serious," he cut in. "You should  _not_  be here. None of you should." Hands settling over her hips, she frowned.

"Then next time, don't assemble the damn Avengers."

Tony waved his hands around dismissively, shaking his head. "Whatever, okay, note to self; JARVIS should never send out automated distress messages," he muttered to no one in particular. "Alright, Rhodey is trying to get the President out of here; Killian's –”

"Killian? Repeat?" Steve interrupted, and Katniss rolled her eyes at the mere sound of his voice. Clearly, her reaction was a shared one, Tony's face falling into a deadpan expression.

"Bad guy, that help you any?"

"A little."

Tony shook his head, trying to move around the subject. "All you need to know is that Killian's got a lot of explosives on this rig."

"Explosives like bombs?" Sam asked, folding his arms over his chest.

"Explosives like  _people_. Killian's been experimenting with this…you know what, it's not even relevant. Rogers, find Rhodey and see if you can't help him shake the President loose before the American public has to watch their leader assassinated. Sam-boy, you're with me, since you've got wings."

"And me?" Katniss asked, holding her hands out as everyone began to set off in their respective directions. "What the hell am I supposed to do, stand around and wait on Clint and Natasha to hop on board and stuff me in some corner?"

Tony turned back around, crossing the space between them and placing his hands on her shoulders. "Pep is in danger," he explained to her quietly. "She's in a…a  _shit_ ton of trouble, and I can't worry about losing you and her in one go. Start sweeping decks, clear them out for me, do whatever you can without getting yourself killed. If anyone can find her, it's you."

Giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, he darted back off with Sam. Katniss took a deep breath; right, this was serious business. She was an Avenger, for fuck's sake, and she was being called to do what she was known for doing best. This was beyond saving the lives of innocents, this was about saving the life of her family, and if that didn't carry any kind of weight, she didn't know what would.

"Katniss, be careful," Steve warned, from wherever he hell he was behind her as he pierced her thoughts. Instead of a reply, she stalked off in the opposite direction.

"Whatever."

The oil rig vaguely reminded her of a large jungle gym, a maze she was sweeping through rather slowly, but surely. Every corner she turned, she expected to see Pepper lurking in the corner, waiting for Tony or armed and ready to take on the bad guys herself. She continued to chase her way up the rig, her boots clanking against the metal and hardly giving her any secrecy as she did so. Her head was no quieter; the past twenty four hours were playing over and over again on repeat in her brain and it was as though someone had turned up the volume on the replay. She just wanted to find Pepper. She wanted to find Pepper and then get the hell out of here. Truth was, she was itching for  _all_  of this to be over so she could go home to her thirteenth floor bedroom and sleep for the next week.

She was still just human, after all.

"Where's Thor when you need – " Her grumbling to herself almost lead her right into the middle of a rig that was currently occupied by a guard, more than likely one keeping watch for the opposite team. This was it, the moment of no return. This was where the bow she clutched tightly in her hand would finally become more than a paper weight and she'd have to face the facts, whether or not she could still shoot. She had no other choice, really.

 _Now_  her mind was spinning as she tried to slow her breathing, feeling the panic start to rise in her chest. Naming presidents didn't seem to do much, the bow in her hand suddenly weighing a hundred pounds and the quiver strapped to her back was crushing her bones.

Pressing her back against the wall, she closed her eyes and tried to focus. "You can do this," she whispered quietly to herself. "You can do this." Her hands were still shaking as she drew her bow, pulling an arrow from her quiver and stringing it up. The sound it made as she pulled back, waiting anxiously was familiar even though it sounded much different than it did the last time she'd done such a thing. Katniss took a deep breath before revealing herself from the darkness, not even realizing she had yet to exhale until she let the arrow fly.

Miss.

Her heart sank into her stomach as the guard spun around at the sound of an arrow clattering on the ground, wicked smile on his face. "You shouldn't be here, beautiful," he warned her. "Orders are orders, and no one's allowed to see anything and leave alive."

She couldn't move fast enough to pull another arrow out of her quiver as he moved in on her, hands outstretched and terrifying look gleaming in his eyes. Thinking purely on instinct as he reached out to grab her arm, manhandling her against a wall, she took the bow still in her hands and drove it forward straight into his gut. He backed up at the blow, clearly underestimating the amount of strength she possessed. His eyes narrowed. "Shouldn't have done –”

Taking advantage of his stereotypical bad-guy spiel, Katniss swung her bow back and let it fly, hitting him as hard as she could in the side of the head with it. "Well, that works," she muttered as she pushed her bangs out of her eyes.

Footsteps started to get louder as they approached, signaling oncoming company that probably wasn't welcome. Spinning around, she was treated to the sight of another two guards rounding the corner with one intended target – her. Figuring she had nothing else to lose, she grabbed her bow from the ground and pulled another arrow from her quiver. She didn't bother to think twice about it and let the arrow fly, watching as it sunk into one of their shoulders. Katniss was too in the zone to notice that she'd made her shot as she continued drawing and firing, draw and fire, until her opponents had taken off in the opposite direction.

"Lower deck is clear," she muttered into her comm, only letting a feeling of relief wash over her when the words left her mouth. She'd done it. There was still a little physical fight in her.  _Choke on that, Rogers._

"C'mon, Pepper, just reach for my hand!" The sound of Tony's voice echoed out into the almost empty night, save for the sound of explosions beneath her. That must have been the signal of Clint and Natasha's arrival, if she knew any better. "Pepper, I'm not going to let you go. Just take my hand." There was silence, and then an ear-piercing shriek cut through the near silent night.

Pepper fell straight past her, flying through the air at top speed and her arm still outstretched for Tony as she plummeted straight towards the ground. Katniss rushed towards the edge of the platform, leaning over the edge as she watched, completely horrified. This wasn't happening; Tony would summon the suit and he'd follow after, swooping in and saving the day. Any alternative, something to save Pepper, it would  _happen_. This didn't  _happen_. The seconds dragged out painfully, her heart an anvil in her chest as the blood rushed into her ears. Tony never did come. Instead, Pepper kept falling. She would have screamed. She tried desperately to scream. Nothing came out.


	21. stand and fight

Her heart seemed to stop working as she stared down at the world beneath her, up in flames and the heat rising until her face felt like it was on fire, the tears in her eyes burning as they threatened to fall.

It was times like these where she was almost glad that her hearing wasn't as up to par as it was, because she didn't need to hear any more deafening silence, to the point where she felt like the world was spinning on its side and wasn't going to cease until she buckled at the knees.

When was it ever going to  _end?_  When was she ever going to stop watching the people she loved being torn apart, battered, bruised, tortured,  _killed_  because they were solely a pawn in the game? She was tired of it,  _so_  tired of it, and her fingers were twitching for her arrows. She hadn't felt pain like this since Gale died, and even then, she hadn't properly acted on it. It was always something, whether it was saving the world or just trying to save her family. Trying to save something. And she never was allowed to feel. She wasn't sure how Natasha and Clint, especially Natasha did it. How they could go and go and go and not feel a thing, how they could just dust themselves off and act like nothing ever did seem to happen.  _Yeah, well, fuck that._

She was  **going**  to feel, and it started the minute the last place she'd seen Pepper fall go up in yet another explosion.

"Tony!" she screamed, because, fuck, the entire damn ocean knew they were there at that point and if they didn't, that was entirely their fault. " _Anthony!_ "

Footsteps grew heavier and louder, and by the time they arrived, she had her bow drawn and her fingers itching to fire. She unleashed arrow after arrow on her intruders, all of whom were charging at her like they were bulls, merely animals as they came ready to kill. So was she; the fire in her eyes feral and her teeth ground together so tight they were bound to turn to dust. Shooting had never seemed this easy, even if every other arrow she fired was a miss and clattered to the ground. She had hits, and if she didn't, she'd pick up the arrow and jab it straight in between their eyes with her own fist clenched around it.

"Katniss!" Steve shouted, rounding the corner as she carried on with her 'feeling', tears flooding down her face as she tried to suppress the scream with her ground together teeth. His boots were heavy, and she nearly almost shot him the minute he came into view. He stopped in his tracks, looking around at all the bodies surrounding her and how she had tried to fire an arrow at him, only to miss and it go diving to the floor about halfway. "What are you thinking? They're going to explode, how  _stupid_ –”

"This is  _your_  fault," she seethed before he could even finish whatever scolding comment was on the tip of his tongue, the tears pricking her eyes as she wildly jabbed her bow into his torso. Controlling what she was saying, keeping a lid on her emotions was far gone at that point, the words merely a waterfall as they spewed from her. "This is all your fault, if you had never just walked away, walked right back into SHIELD!"

"What does me working for SHIELD have to do with anything, how is  _any_ of this my fault?!" he fired back, desperate to get both hands around her shoulders to force her into a standstill. Katniss was too hostile, too emotionally distraught to be restrained and she shook loose each time.

"Because  _you left_! You left, and I needed you, I needed all of you and where the hell were you? Nowhere! Everyone just goes on and on about how Tony and I are self-destructive and we need help, but where was our help? Even if we needed it, we said we needed it, would you have been there? No! Because that is what you do," she yelled, hitting him again with her bow and finding it lucky it didn't split at the force. "That is what you  **all**  do, you leave and you're never there and you try to compensate where we don’t need it and I…"

"What? You what?" Steve was trying to shake the answer out of her, his eyes wide and on high alert.

She knew the answer, deep down. She knew that this feeling, acting on the well-bottled time bomb deep inside of her was fueled by one thing and one thing only. It wasn't because she hated him. She didn't  _hate_ him, she couldn't have. No, but hating him was easier. It kept him at a distance. It kept him away from her, away from whatever havoc she left in her wake. Her cheeks were wet as she finally dared herself to look at him, really look at him, and felt her heart give way from all the feeling she'd tried to pile in on one round. "I can't  _protect_  all of you!" she screamed. "That's all I've ever tried to do, that's all I'm  **trying**  to do, and you say you want to help me and that I need help but you're not  _helping_ me when you run off and get yourself into shit like this that we can't fix, don't you get that? We can't fix this and I can't keep you safe anymore! You wanted to help me? You staying safe was helping me! And now what?!"

Katniss had barely noticed Clint and Natasha round the corner – apparently, her emotional meltdown wasn't a quiet one and had drawn a bit of attention from, well, the entire oil rig. They were staring at her, like she was some main attraction, their eyes wide and their mouths glued shut. "Katniss," Steve coaxed, desperate to get her to calm down. "Kat, you never had to protect anybody. That was never your job, you know that."

"What, after all you guys did was protect me? Ever since I stepped foot on the Helicarrier two years ago, it's been the same thing, everyone trying to protect me and keep me safe, but this is a team! We protect each other, it’s what we do! It's all _I_ can do, with my legs and now my hearing; that's all I can do, is  _protect_  you and now…a—and now…"

The pain turned to anger, letting the heat inside her incinerate any kind of vulnerability that was showing. Another explosion sounded in the distance; she knew very well they were standing in a minefield. She didn't care.  _Let one go off_ , she almost threatened.  _Do it._ Snarling at him, she pushed him away from her. "I needed you the most, I thought we were in this together and where were you, Steve?  _Where the hell were you_?"

"You mean when I came back?"

"Rogers," Natasha warned, her voice quiet but enough to send her threat loud and clear. Steve, however, wasn't having any of it.

"Katniss, I came back  _for you_  every single time, and you want to tell me that I was never there? Every time you acted like I was the wallpaper or put your floor on lockdown when I visited, and you want to tell me it's my fault that everything is, quite literally might I add, falling apart around us?"

"I wanted you there. I did. But you left and things  **changed,** the rules changed, Steve. You staying away from me was how I kept you safe," she hissed under her breath.

"We're a team, we protect  _each other_ , we fix it together; that's what we do," Steve muttered, his hands finding her shoulders as he finally got a lock on her.

"We can't fix this," Katniss whispered quietly, her voice thick as another tear fell from her eye. "We can't fix this, and if it weren't for how much I cared, we'd never be in this mess." She turned on Natasha and Clint, letting the bow fall from her hand and hit the metal flooring with a bang. "Why is it that you two don't feel a fuckin' thing, but I feel it all?"

"Guys, we're standing –”

"I don't  _care_!" she sobbed, her voice cracking under all the pressure at the sound of Clint's voice. "Let one go off. Let it. What else do we possibly have left to lose?"

For a moment, her words hung in the air. The answer was obvious, even to Katniss: a lot. She had a lot left to lose; she had her family, her team, her home, her life. She had lost plenty, maybe more than the average person. Her former home, the life that she'd known for, well, all her life, her best friend. But it wasn't just her on the line; her whole team had lost before, and they'd finally built back up to a place where they had something. And Katniss had all of that and more to lose. The way she let her arms hang by her sides, the look on her face said differently. She might as well have provoked one of the bodies around her, steadily turning a flaming orange as they let the seconds tick by. Why not? After all, a war had to end at some point.

"Why did you come up here?" Steve finally addressed Clint and Natasha civilly, turning his back to Katniss and his voice cold.

"Hill's here," Clint said sharply. "And we've got to go."

Things were awkwardly silent on the Quinjet back to D.C. Katniss had stowed far away into a back corner, almost hidden in the shadows where no one could see her. That was perfectly fine with her, seeing as how the company of anyone disgusted her. She didn't want company, not after her breakdown. Her face was stiff from the tear tracks, her throat sore from the yelling; it was as if she was Humpty Dumpty, and the king's men had done one shitty job putting her back together again.

Steve was on the opposite end of the Quinjet, sitting with Hill and Clint up near the cockpit where they quietly discussed plans. Plans, of course; they were taking on HYDRA in the morning after Hill had received intel that Insight would be launching then. Not the average daily schedule, for one, and she'd almost laughed cynically at the thought. Tony had stayed behind, determined to fix his own mess by himself. She'd almost begged to stay there, unleash more destruction so she could figure out how the hell she was supposed to  _feel_ , but Clint had all but dragged her on the Quinjet himself.

Her words, her angry ramble left ashes all over her skin; she remembered the words ricocheting off of her tongue, but it all seemed like it had happened in a dream, another life even. She had been just as much of a time bomb as any of the experiments that had been walking around on that rig, except she'd gone off and left everyone completely speechless. At least she finally knew what her superpower was.

Kept company by mostly her thoughts, she was rather surprised to hear boots clanking along the metal floor of the Quinjet. Glancing up ever so slightly, she realized that it was Natasha, heading straight for her. Perhaps one of the  _last_ people she wanted to talk to, right before Steve. Katniss found her lower lip captured between her teeth, gnawing at it anxiously.

Not bothering to ask for any kind of permission, Natasha merely sat down right next to Katniss. She placed a silver briefcase in her lap, flipping up all the locks on it in one swift motion before raising the lid. For a moment, she stared at it, before turning it sharply in her lap, right in Katniss' direction.

"This is for you tomorrow," she explained quietly. Katniss lifted her head a little more, peeking at the contents of the briefcase out of sole curiosity. It was odd looking; almost like a thin piece of rubber with grid lines etched on it.

"What the hell is that?"

"Simple answer? It's a mask. I want you with me tomorrow when we go after Insight; I'll be in the World Security Council's meeting along with Pierce, and I want you there."

Katniss pulled the flimsy piece of tech from its resting place in the case gently, toying around with it. "Why?" she muttered. "Afraid that if I'm anywhere else I'll run off or go bat-shit crazy again?"

Natasha's green eyes were piercing as she bore holes into Katniss' side. "Because I want you there with me. I want you there with me because you need it; you need to see this end. You never got to see the end of New York," she rattled off, staring down at her hands as if they were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. "You were stabbed before Tony fell back through and it ended. And you need to see this end or else you're never going to fix anything. You can't replace mess after mess, problem with problem. It builds, stacks, and then you live with it all on your shoulders."

"You want me to watch things fix themselves?" Katniss repeated, trying to understand. Natasha was always a bit cryptic; she and Tony both did well with running circles around their meanings.

"You want to  _feel_  again?" Natasha snapped. "You'll feel tomorrow. You'll feel when you stand there in front of Pierce, and we empty bullets into him. You're going to see it through, and you're going to fix it yourself. Protect whoever you want.  _End_  your fight, so you can go the hell home."

Katniss blinked a few times, placing the mask back in Natasha's briefcase. Her eyes were fixed on the floor as her mind wandered to an entirely other realm; she was going to finish this. After the weeks of being haunted by a new monster in her sleep, worrying, trying to keep everyone safe and ultimately damaging herself in the process, it was going to end. Whether they ended up victorious or dead, that was the variable in question, but it was going to end. She hardly noticed Natasha get up and retreat back to the small corner  _she_ had been holed up in, thinking quietly. Natasha didn't make it far, before she paused in her tracks and tilted her head to the side, mouth in Katniss' general direction.

"And for the record," Natasha said coolly. "Clint feels everything. I feel everything. And you would never have…inherited how to hide it, because it never came programmed in us."


	22. and so, the castle falls

Glancing at one of the windows she passed, it was remarkable at how well she was able to be someone who wasn't her.

Natasha – or rather, should she say, Councilwoman Hawley – was next to her, hands stiff by her sides as they walked through the lobby of the Triskelion. Things seemed much different through her eyes now, now that she was looking through someone else's. Her hearing wasn't up to par, like it had been last time, and she swore that her heart was beating loud enough for the other council members walking in front of them to hear plain as day. Natasha turned to look at her, and through Councilwoman Hawley's eyes, she gave Katniss a look. One that said to follow her lead.

It was a good thing that she wasn't leaving it up to Katniss to make the plans, otherwise things would be headed south.

Katniss was no longer Katniss; instead, she was Councilwoman Steele, with blonde hair that was almost too blonde to pass as natural in any context and thin lips that were pressed together in thought. Thanks to the help of the mask Natasha had given her, she looked far from herself. Her face was shaped differently, creases along the outside of her eyes, her forehead and by her lips, a mere staple of passing off as someone a little bit older. It was nice, walking around as someone else for a moment or two, even if there was a mission behind it. She needed to step into a different mentality, be someone else and forget about herself. The only thing that she carried that was still her was the way her fingers never did seem to stop moving at her side. She knew Natasha had already picked up on it, and was probably praying that that wouldn't be the thing to doom them.

She turned away from Natasha's gaze, eyes fixing back to the path in front of her. Her step had a vengeance in it; ever since the night before when she'd nearly lost her mind (or perhaps she had and just couldn't tell the difference anymore) she found that all the emotion had frozen over, quite literally overnight. Instead, she was a hard shell, completely fixed and no longer in a thousand different directions. Granted, she didn't feel much like a person this way, but it was enough. She felt stronger, much more capable. On fire.

Over a bowl of cereal this morning at Sam's cramped table – like it was any other typical morning, like they weren't about to head off to infiltrate one of the largest intelligence organizations in the world and bring it to its knees – they'd watched television to see where Tony had eliminated his threat, just a man who wanted his revenge on Tony and had nearly succeeded, and had surprisingly eliminated all of his Iron Man suits in the process. For a minute, Katniss had been waiting for word on Pepper, her spoon hanging there in the open air (and perhaps the balance itself) as she waited, but in vain, of course. Nothing. And then it had been off to suit up, gear up, leave and get ready for the longest day of her life.

Stepping into the elevator, one of the Council members that had been awkwardly shoved next to her in the rather cramped quarters gave her a thin lipped smile as he looked down to see who it was that was jammed nearly into his ribs. "Councilwoman Steele," he acknowledged, and Katniss had only a few seconds to rack her brain for the crash course in Council members Natasha had given her this morning.

"Singh," she replied curtly, praying to the heavens that she'd gotten it right. He didn't question or give her any odd looks, so that was the safe sign that she'd gotten it right. From behind her, Katniss felt the brush of someone's hand over her wrist, squeezing it gently to remind her that she wasn't entirely alone in the elevator, that she wasn't alone in doing this. That, or it was Natasha's way of saying so far, so good. Katniss wasn't quite sure she'd ever truly understand her mother's isms.

Arriving at the top floor, the elevator doors peeled back only to reveal Alexander Pierce. Katniss felt her blood run cold – it had felt like an eternity since she'd looked into the eyes of someone that might as well have been the devil, and they were snake-like when she dared glance across the room. She didn't see the reflection of fear when she looked at him, like had had every other time, when he'd paid her visits and delivered his threats. No, she saw a man who had exploited her fragility, who used her to break her team apart, who laughed at her failures and warned her to do better when she succeeded. She saw a man who divided their numbers, who turned them all against each other, who split them at the seams just so he could get his way; someone who threatened them all within every inch of their lives, left her deaf, left her as someone she wasn't the slightest bit familiar with. She saw a man who wasn't even a man; she saw a monster.

It took everything in her not to reach for the nearest gun and shoot him on sight.

Instead, she plastered a smile onto her face – or rather, Councilwoman Steele's face, and stepped out of the elevator with her chin up and a steel look of determination glittering in her eyes. There was no waiting for Natasha's company. Natasha was right; she needed to see this through, and god, how sweet this was going to taste the minute it touched her tongue.

Pierce began his small talk, greeting the members of the Council. Katniss watched as he approached Natasha, shaking her hand firmly. "And how was your flight?" he asked her, his voice smooth. She'd heard that voice a million times bouncing around in her head, and it almost didn't sound real now with her hearing aids in; nothing ever did.  _Hearing aids_ , she thought to herself, subconsciously letting her fingers wander up to her ear and brushing at her concha. They were hopefully as inconspicuous as possible. If anything gave them away before her pulling a trigger, it'd be that.

"Lovely," Natasha drawled as Councilwoman Hawley. "The ride from the airport, less so."

Frowning, Pierce offered her an apologetic look. "Sadly, SHIELD can't control everything."  _HYRDA,_  Katniss bitterly thought.  _You're not SHIELD, you're HYDRA._

"Including Captain America," another member commented dryly – Katniss recognized him as the only one who hadn't spoken, so Rockwell.

His comment seemed to go unnoticed as Pierce made his way over to a guard near one of the walls, holding a silver briefcase. Pierce took it from him, opening the case and revealing it to the small group. Resting in the hollows were five silver pins, one for the each of them Katniss realized. "This facility is biometrically controlled, and these will give you unlimited access," he explained. Whatever the hell  _that_ meant, Katniss was clueless, but she was one of the first to take a pin from it, sticking it through her blazer.

"Councilwoman Steele," Pierce greeted, and for a minute, Katniss didn't know who he was referring to. The slight smile draped over his lips when she glanced up prompted her for a response.

"Secretary Pierce," she said coolly. Try as she might, urging up an ounce of friendliness was not in the cards. She did her damn hardest to make her voice sound like she was at the least, playing civil. For a moment, he looked at her, his eyes trying to pierce through the obvious façade she was donning, and Katniss could have sworn that he saw straight through her, could see  _her_  staring right back at him.

Instead, he gave a small nod and departed to hand out the rest of the pins.

It seemed like an eternity of standing alone, taking in the room in. She'd been up to Pierce's office before, but it wasn't nearly as open as this. Windows stretched from floor to window, taking up an entire wall to themselves. She found eyes mainly fixed to it, the view of the city beneath her stretching far out beyond her sights. Things were peaceful, completely unsuspecting to what was surely to come.

"Different from the holograms?" Hawley's voice came from behind her, an eyebrow quirked when Katniss turned around to face her. She took a step back, furthering the two of them from the rest of the group that was chatting among themselves.

"Yeah," Katniss said, the voice that said the words she knew she had foreign to her. She then lowered her volume, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. "Status?"

"Steve, Sam, and Maria are more than likely infiltrating now," Natasha replied, barely above a whisper. "Won't be long now."

"Clint?" Katniss whispered. Through Hawley's eyes, Natasha was delivering one hell of an 'are-you-kidding' glare.

"He does as he desires. Chances are, he's weaseling his way on the deck now, assuming no one recognizes him and the whole Undesirable Number One thing has been lifted from our heads." Pausing to take a glance around the room at the rest of the members, she tilted her head in a half-hearted shrug. "Though I very seriously doubt that."

Natasha didn't linger for much longer, leaving to go converse with Councilman Rockwell. She was good at that; making sure that no one knew she was potentially someone else. Deciding to take a page from her book, she plastered a smile over her face and sashayed over where Councilman Singh and Pierce were, chatting animatedly over glasses of champagne.

Finding her own glass, she kept a hand wrapped gingerly around it as she casually inserted herself into the conversation. Perhaps not the wisest move in the book, seeing as how she wasn't the most up to date on Council talk and there had been no run down on the basics. But Natasha seemed to do this with ease, making small talk and getting Rockwell to talk about himself – there was her escape, if she needed one.

"Councilwoman, your thoughts?" Pierce said, shaking her from her game plan preparations. Her eyebrows lifted in question, doing her best to appear amused, not terrified that she'd been referred to. Internally, she let herself breathe, following right into the footsteps Natasha had provided, a smile starting to quirk. "Insight's launch today, how we've gotten here all the way from when this was simply an idea."

Her face lit up, nodding feverishly. "I'm…well, what can I say, Secretary? Your forces here work at impeccable speed," she said, holding her glass of champagne. The double entendre of her statement was something only she understood, but she guaranteed her eyes were trying to convey otherwise. "To a new age."

Pierce seemed beyond impressed with her response, holding up his glass of champagne as well. "A new age," he agreed, before turning to address the rest of the members. "A new age, all thanks to the minds that want to shape it. To prevent, to protect, to bring about a new day. I know that the road hasn't exactly been smooth, and some of you would have gladly kicked me out of the car along the way. But finally, we're here, and the world should be thankful."

The rest of the Council members went to raise their glasses, all in toast, when things started to head in the opposite direction. Above their heads, the intercom crackled, signaling that someone had turned on the microphone, clearly without any kind of authorization. It took everything in Katniss not to glance over at her mother.

"Attention, all SHIELD agents," Steve's voice rang out loud and clear over the speakers. "This is Steve Rogers. You've heard a lot about me over the last few days, some of you were even ordered to hunt me down. But I think it's time you know the truth. SHIELD is not what we thought it was, it's been taken over by HYDRA. Alexander Pierce is their leader."

That statement garnered a few looks from the Council, all exchanging glances. Katniss looked at Natasha, finally seeing her moment, and Natasha remained steady. They didn't have any idea if there were other HYDRA members standing amongst them there on the Council. Hell, they didn't even know if they were acting as HYDRA members themselves. Steve continued on with his noble speech over the intercom. "The STRIKE and Insight crew are HYDRA as well. I don't know how many more, but I know they're in the building. They could be standing right next to you. They almost have what they want: absolute control. They shot the Nick Fury and it won't end there. If you launch those Helicarriers today, HYDRA will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way, unless we stop them."

He took a deep breath, and Katniss could almost picture him in his mind, staring at the microphone and trying to figure out his next few words and make sure that they counted for something. "I know I'm asking a lot, but the price of freedom is high; it always has been, and it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not," he said, the intercom crackling off.

Everything hung still in the air, as everyone looked around wildly, not daring to breathe. Katniss found her eyes constantly running into Natasha's, bouncing off to glare at Pierce. The expression on his face never faded once, even with the break of the news. From behind them, the elevator door sounded, signaling the arrival of two SHIELD – HYDRA, whoever – agents to the party.

Rockwell was the first to speak, his eyes narrowed and murder colored all over his face. "You smug son of a bitch," were the only words he seemed to have on him, the silence torn. Pierce didn't as much as flinch, instead, his lips starting to cock into a smile. In her stomach, Katniss felt the fire starting to heat up, having to grit her teeth to keep from breaking cover.

Councilman Singh glanced at the two agents, gesturing towards Pierce. "Arrest him," he insisted.

Instead of making any sort of move to do as Singh had instructed, the guards pulled out their guns and turned them on him. He clearly hadn't been expecting the action, eyes widening. Pierce held both of his hands out palms up, shrugging slightly. "I guess I've got the floor," he said in such a way that it physically pained Katniss to suppress the growl rising in her throat.

"Damn straight you do," Rockwell growled. "HYDRA, Pierce?"

It was clear to Katniss that Pierce saw no error in his decisions, no flaw in his allegiance. To him, he was merely doing the same thing that she saw SHIELD do to others. He didn't see the evil in it. Or, maybe he did, but he was warped to the point where it wasn't  _really_  evil, but rather necessary. "Rockwell," he started, his voice thick as honey. "You see the negative connotation with us, I understand. You don't see the regime, the structure, the  _glory_ , the progress we've made over the years."

"By hiding in SHIELD?"

"One must take measures for the sake of growth," Pierce responded, speaking in some high manner as if he ran on philosophy, moral code, high and mighty and ready to show everyone in the room his true extent of knowledge and power and the affect it played in his life.

He didn't have very far to go with his spiel – thank  _fuck_ , otherwise Katniss was going to whip off her mask and tackle him – when there was commotion from outside the window. Not much, but enough to catch Pierce's attention. He took a few steps over in the direction of the window, gazing out it longingly and finding nothing left in his throat but a small laugh.

Natasha caught Katniss' eye, and mouthed only one word.  _Cavalry._

Yes indeed, it was the cavalry, Sam and Clint and Steve doing their damn hardest to keep the Helicarriers from launching. For the most part, things were silent among the rest of the Council members, as they all leaned in to try and get a better look at what was going without taking another step closer to Pierce. Sam was the most obvious sight, his wings spread wide as he zipped across the sky, trying to avoid the bullets coming his way. Even from where she was standing, Katniss could see some of the commotion, explosions and gunshots; the walls weren't soundproof, and the commotion outside wasn't exactly quiet.

Pierce turned away from the window after the aching silence in the room, addressing primarily Singh. "Let me ask you a question. What if Pakistan marched into Mumbai tomorrow, and you knew that they were going to drag your daughters into a soccer stadium for execution?" The glass of champagne appeared in his hand, gesturing out towards Singh. One of his eyebrows lifted in curiosity. "And you could just stop it with a flick of a switch. Would you? Wouldn't you all?"

Singh looked disgusted at the champagne that had found its way into his hand, glancing at Pierce with sheer disgust in his eyes. "Not if it was your switch."

In one fluid movement, Singh threw his glass onto the ground in an act of defiance, it shattering in front of them. One of the HYDRA agents closest to Pierce whipped out his gun, placing it right into the hands of Pierce. Katniss glanced down at the mess for only a second, which gave her away the minute she lifted her head.

"Councilwoman Steele, I didn't know you wore hearing aids," Pierce commented, entirely out of place as he glanced around the gun he was holding at Singh.

"You're right," Katniss replied levelly. "I don't." Everything in the room shifted, Natasha kicking Singh swiftly out of the way from Pierce. Both of the HYDRA agents went straight for her, Natasha wasting no time in taking them down. In the midst of the commotion, Katniss was able to get the gun straight from Pierce's hands, aiming it straight at him about the same time that Natasha sprung back up, the other agent's gun in her hands cocked right at Pierce as well.

Her features were soaked in smug satisfaction. "But I do." Reaching up, she went about tugging the face mask off of her, throwing it casually to the side once it was completely off. Pierce's expression had yet to change; if anything, he seemed amused by everything.

"Did we step on your moment?" Natasha chimed in, stripping her mask as well.

The other Council members around them seemed relatively pleased at their arrival; it meant some sort of protection against Pierce and HYDRA. Pierce, however, looked as though he had anticipated something like this the minute they walked in.

"Miss Everdeen, so nice to see you again," he said, as if he were greeting an old friend.

"Romanoff-Barton," she corrected sharply.

He started to laugh, jovially and not at all evilly like she would've expected. No, this was amusing to him, it was all some grand joke. Katniss was in no mood for any of his jokes, snapping the safety off the gun in one fluid motion. He stopped laughing, holding up one of his hands in innocence.

"My apologies."

"Why'd you do it?" she barked, jabbing the gun in his direction. "Why'd you do it? Single me out? Did you really think you could use me exactly how you wanted to?"

There were no hesitations in his answer. "Of course I could. You were the weakest link; you and Stark, but Stark wasn't as naïve as you. You on the other hand were just now finding your footing in an entirely new world, you still had blind faith in SHIELD even after New York, and you still wanted to follow them because you needed to follow something. You still wanted to be a part of this world, to feel as though you belonged, to follow after your parents who you heralded so much, to follow after Steve –”

"Do  _not_  talk about them," Katniss threatened, Natasha stiffening beside her as she lowered her gun. "If I was the weakest link, then why go for me?"

Again, another laugh from Pierce. "When the weakest link goes, everything else goes with it. It doesn't require as much pressure to break. The more stress piled on your shoulders, the easier it would be to keep all eyes on you, including your team, and the less you'd be concerned with your surroundings. It was the perfect plan. They would waste their energy trying to build you back up even as you fell apart, leaving no fight in them. You break, and so do the rest of your teammates. As far as I'm concerned, gravity proved triumphant."

Katniss shook her head. "We're still standing; it's  _you_  with the gun turned on you."

Pierce merely shrugged. "Nothing's over until it's over." She was about neck deep in all of his cryptic talk, and she was more than ready to light all of that bullshit on fire.

"Why blow up Tony's house?" Katniss had a laundry list of questions waiting for him, and she was going to get her answers. "Why send that missile to the bunker?"

"Mr. Stark knew too much –”

“– they  _all_  knew, so try again."

"All the more reason," Pierce explained. "Mr. Stark referring to a target on your backs led me to believe that he was aware of too much; I didn't want his big mouth revealing anything that wasn't ready. Same instance with the bunker, you found things that weren't ready to be revealed."

"And you left me deaf."

"My sympathies."

Rage consumed Katniss, her finger trembling over the trigger. One little movement and it would be over, she would have seen it through and a small piece of her pain would be flooded with relief, satisfaction,  _closure_. She was seeing red, her mouth tasting of metal as she seethed, desperate for the moment where she could just do it. Her teeth were on the edge of breaking, the anticipation eating away at her. She didn't know it was possible to feel this much anger, this type of fire incinerating her from the inside out. But there was Pierce in all his infuriating glory, and it didn't take much for a match to strike.

"What are you doing?" came Rockwell's voice, Katniss breaking her death glare on Pierce to glance over at him. His sights were focused behind her, the sound of keys typing in the silence. She twisted her head around to see Natasha, who was already on the computers and

"She's disabling security protocols and dumping all the secrets onto the Internet," Pierce explained calmly.

Not bothering to glance up from her work, Natasha's response was just as cool. "Including HYDRA's."

"And SHIELD's," he pointed out. "If you do this, none of your past is going to remain hidden."

Katniss flicked her attention back to Natasha, watching as her typing slowed but continued. There was a small moment of hesitation in her ministrations, and Katniss knew why. This was  _all_  of her, everything from her Russian background to the fact she had had a child despite failed experiments, a child that had been recruited for the Avengers Initiative and fought in New York. "Are you sure you're ready for the world to see you as you really are?" Pierce asked again.

Natasha didn't hesitate in lifting her head, the look challenging. "Are you?" she quipped.

Rounding back on Pierce, Katniss started searching for the words. She wasn't as eloquent was Steve and his whole rah-rah for justice talk he'd aired earlier, nor was she as biting as Natasha. She was Clint through and through; few words did the job best for her. Yet all she wanted to do was scream nonsense at him, give him everything she had and then some, allow herself to feel truly satisfied as she unleashed hellfire on him,  _watching the light leave his eyes –_

"Katniss," Natasha said, tearing her away from the small centimeter of the movement it would take to put a bullet through Pierce's neck and end this once and for all. She glanced back at Natasha, hands trembling. Her mother was cool and collected, although there was a flicker of something else in her eyes.  _Anxiety._  "Sam's waiting outside. It's Steve."

Pierce merely chuckled, like he'd known he'd be her weakness all along.


	23. skyfall

Shooting Pierce one last final glare on her way out, she took the pistol with her and shot blindly somewhere near his feet. Whether or not it hit him, she didn't know, and frankly didn't care. He'd get what was coming to him in due time.

As Natasha had promised – she must have had a comm link in the entire time, unbeknownst to Katniss – Sam was waiting for her out on the roof. The wind nearly hit her square in the face when she opened the door, a force to be reckoned with as she made her way to him. Up close, it was clear to her that he was running straight off adrenaline, maybe fumes if that.

"I need a little backup," he admitted. "Can't get Bravo locked without a little distraction."

Katniss smiled, reaching up and pulling the wig off of her head. Her natural hair fell around her in waves, feeling more like herself already. "Then let's distract them."

With one swift movement, she latched onto Sam's shoulder and before she even had the chance to blink, there was suddenly no ground beneath her feet. They were zipping through the air, the wind and the sound of missiles exploding the only thing she could hear. Looking over his shoulder, she could see the heat-seeking missiles coming straight for them. "Hang on!" she barely heard him yell, instinctively tightening her grip as he started to weave around the Helicarrier – massive in size and steadily rising – and making a sharp turn around it.

Even with her hearing aids in and the other background noise funneling through, she could hear the sounds of the explosions on the Helicarrier, allowing them entrance. "Yeah baby!" Sam shouted. "Alright Kat, ready for drop?"

There was hardly a second to give him an affirmative answer, finding herself in free fall. It vaguely reminded her of the drop that night in Stuttgart, instinctively moving her body in the air so when she landed on the floor of the Helicarrier, she neatly dive-rolled right back onto her feet. Adrenaline was surging through her veins, brushing her hair out of the way to assess her surroundings.

Up a short ways ahead was the control panel, and she didn't know why Sam had dropped her now that it was open. He was the one who had the chip. Glancing down, she realized that her fists had been closed the entire time, and hesitantly opened her palm. Sure enough, the bastard had slipped the chip into her hand right before he'd let her go. Pulling herself off the ground, she ran as best as she could up to the control panel, eyes flitting all over to find where the chip went.

She finally managed to wiggle her hand far enough to force it open, removing the targeting blade and placing the chip Sam had given her in its place. Now the only thing she was left with was the HYDRA chip, nothing else to do with it. Throwing it on the ground, she took her boot and stomped hard on it, crushing it underneath the pressure.

From behind her, there was a sound of feet hitting metal, and she whipped around with eyes wide. The initial thought was HYDRA, come to kill her. Her hand hovered over the place where she'd tucked her stolen pistol, ready to draw until she realized that it wasn't HYDRA at all.

It was Steve.

"What the  _hell_  are you doing here?" he panted, nearly out of breath.

"Same as you, trying to stop these things from killing everyone," Katniss replied as civilly as she could. Her voice seemed to drown in the scheme of the noise swirling around them, explosions every other minute and the adrenaline keeping her bloodstream hammering in her ears. She couldn't force her eyes off of him; he was still fighting, still trying to save the day all by himself, and judging by the spark of pain she could see behind the helmet, he'd seen Bucky.

"You're supposed to be with Natasha, in the Council meeting."

"Yeah well, my cover was blown and I might've put a bullet in Pierce's leg. Either way, Sam needed me."

"You were needed in the Council meeting," he said stiffly. Some things just never changed; he was still struggling with the change of the plan, the change of everything around him.

"And now I'm needed here. No offense Steve, but I'm just trying to do what you said earlier. You're not the only one in this boat, you're not alone. We do this together, or not at all," she pointed out, a hard edge in her voice.

He watched her for a moment, trying to figure out the emotions on her face. Something different had fallen over her, a newfound attitude of relentlessness. She was fire, she didn't  _need_  to be protected or sheltered. One little gust of wind and she'd be enough to carry the light on her own. And instead of trying to go off on her own, like every other time before, she was in it as a team. Something he hadn't seen since New York, something he hadn't seen in over a year. Something that he was glad to see return. "Yeah," he finally said. "Yeah, we do."

Another pair of feet landed on the walkway, Katniss looking around Steve to see that it was Sam, out of breath himself. "Kid, we gotta go," he said hastily. "One more Helicarrier and this party is over."

"I've got it," Steve said, his eyes still fixed on Katniss. "You'll have to give me a lift, though."

"Dude, I have a weight limit."

"You can toss me, that make you feel any better?"

"Slightly."

Katniss had already started towards Sam, completely brushing past Steve without another word. There wasn't much more for her to say, didn't see a point in conversing any more. Steve, however, had much more to say. She felt his hand wrap around her arm, pulling her back to where he was. His lips found hers hastily, rushed, nothing slow and sweet about the kiss. It lasted maybe two seconds at most, but for Katniss, it seemed to last an entire lifetime. A whole lifetime had passed between their first kiss, in the middle of New York, and so much had changed. They weren't the same people they were, and yet, everything about him was familiar. Stuck in battle, one last chance, not knowing what was going to happen next, but there was one thing they were for sure of. Her lips dragged against his as he pulled away, looking at her as if he'd just stared right at the sun.

From behind them, there was a loud cough from Sam, uncomfortably clearing his throat. "Uh, Hill, we got Bravo locked," he said, his voice a few octaves higher than usual.

Her eyes were locked dead on Steve's, heart heavy in her chest and she wasn't sure if she was going to be able to take another step forward. Moving on their own accord, she made her way over to Sam. He had a smirk written on his face, resembling that of a chipmunk when she glanced up at him. "Not a word," she snapped. Both of his hands lifted in mock arrest, his expression saying otherwise.

On one side, Katniss latched onto the shoulder, and Steve had the opposite. It was a rather awkward moment, Sam in the middle of the two of them with Katniss' blushing face and Steve staring straight ahead to avoid the look he knew Sam would give him. "I feel like such a proud parent," Sam commented, in attempt to lighten the mood.

"Just fly," Steve interrupted.

"Aye, aye, captain!"

Right as they took off, there was an explosion underneath, right where they'd been standing. "God, come  _on_ ," Sam muttered under his breath, almost straining to get them up higher into the sky to avoid any potential mishaps as they tried to get Steve over to the other Helicarrier.

They reached the edge of the platform, Steve letting go and landing neatly on the ground. "You okay?" Unfortunately, there wasn't any time to figure out his answer, as there was a loud exploding sound and Katniss felt them jolted out of their stable position in the sky.

" _Shit_!" Sam yelled, reaching on his chest to deploy the parachute. Katniss lifted her head, only to see that there was a smoking hole in his left wing that split it nearly clean in half. She glanced back at the Helicarrier where they were rapidly spiraling away from, only to see that Steve was now hanging over the edge of the Helicarrier by his hands, a figure standing on the platform above him.

Bucky.

Sam managed to barely land on the edge of the roof on the Triskelion, Katniss suddenly finding herself in quite the predicament. The landing jolted her a little too much, causing her to slip from Sam's grasp and leaving her holding on to the edge of the building. She tried not to scream; this wasn't a situation in which screaming wouldn't help anything, but she made the mistake of daring to glance down below her and found herself nauseated at the sight. Tossing her head back, she tried to keep her focus for just another second longer. Her hands were sweating, and there was no sort of friction on the side of the building.

If this is how she was going to die, it sure wasn't the way she'd really wanted to go.

"I got you, kid," she heard another voice say – not Sam's – as the hand to go with it latched onto hers, tugging her up back onto the roof.

"Clint," Katniss sighed in relief as her feet found the ground once again, her father's arms pulling her back up to safety. She nearly collapsed in his arms, feeling her legs start to give way.

"Whoa there, steady," he said, holding her upright. His hands found their way on either side of her face, looking her directly in the eyes. "How the hell did you get out of the Council meeting, you're supposed to be there with Nat?"

"Long story," she breathed out, glancing over at Sam.

He was staring off elsewhere, more than likely listening to the voice coming from his comm. "Yeah?" A pause, and then an ugly look of determination settled over his features. "Yeah, I'm on it," he muttered darkly.

"What are we on?" Clint asked, following after Sam who was sprinting for the roof access door.

"Today's our lucky day, time to kick some HYDRA ass."

"Specify."

"Brock Rumlow, you know him?" Sam had only pushed the access door open when she felt her feet stop moving, her veins freezing over for a moment. Rumlow, the son of a bitch she'd met that night on the mission to the Lemurian Star, who had caught her in the stairwell the day she'd snuck off to the Triskelion herself, the same person who had probably assisted in launching that missile at the bunker. If she was mad, then Clint was next to her, on the verge of combustion.

"Oh, I know him," Clint growled, eyes narrowing as he slipped past Sam into the stairwell.

The stairwell was dark and dimly lit, the sounds of commotion echoing from the other side of the walls. Apparently, the Triskelion was being evacuated, and there they were, running straight into the mess. Katniss' legs were screaming for her to slow down, the pain growing to be unbearable and the tears stinging in her eyes. "Clint," she finally gasped out, falling short on one of the stairs. Sam kept going down, but Clint stopped a few stairs underneath her, eyes written in concern.

"I can't do this," she panted out, shaking her head. "I can't…my legs." The words she choked out were closer to sobs as she tried to catch her breath, leaning on the side of a wall with the hand rail jabbing into her side.

She knew that he had no idea what to tell her, and frankly, she knew that there wasn't much of an answer that she had to fix her problems, other than to keep going. She knew that she had to. There wasn't any other choice. Glancing up at Clint, she could see the pain in his eyes, knowing that he had the same response for her. Shaking out her head, she pulled herself off the wall and forced herself down the stairs next to him, the smile she had tugged onto her lips clearly fake.

Looping an arm around her shoulder the minute she was within reach, Katniss leaned most of her weight on Clint instinctively. Their eyes met as he helped her take another step down. "I've got you," he reassured, and she knew that he meant it.

It took them a little longer to catch up with – and find, for that matter – Sam, but by the time they made it to the forty first floor, they'd run straight into Brock Rumlow. He was the one who resembled more of the stereotypical bad guy that Katniss had expected to see in this whole scenario. The wicked smile draped over his lips the minute he realized that he and Sam had more company raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Rumlow was deranged, and he sure as hell wore it well.

"Well well, if it isn't the sweet little daddy-daughter duo," he crooned, turning his body so he was able to keep an eye on both sides of him. "Last I heard, you were up in the Council meeting with mother dearest."

"Man, shut the hell up," Sam grumbled.

Katniss pulled herself off of Clint, able to find her footing on her own and stand up by herself. "Three against one, you're outnumbered," Clint added. "And I'm dying to kick your ass."

The nasty grin had yet to fade from Rumlow's face. "I'd say my chances are much better than that, given that it's about to be two against one." Sam, Clint, and Katniss all exchanged nearly identical looks, Rumlow's eyes casting downwards towards Katniss' blazer. "You know what that pin is, right?" he asked.

"Gives me unlimited access to everything in the building," she responded. He shook his head, chuckling to himself.

"Oh no, that was just a decoy to get the Council to put those pins on," he replied. "No, that right there has been armed since the minute you walked in. One push of a button and you get a two inch hole burned right through your sternum. No point in you trying to take it off, either, that'll only activate it faster." Rumlow laughed again.

"You think that you've got the upper hand here? No, not in the slightest. Your precious Captain America will be dead before those Helicarriers even hit the ground. I'm sure Pierce has already pulled the trigger and burned a hole right  _through_ Widow –”

That was the last straw for Clint, who reached for an arrow in the quiver strapped to his back, pulling his bow out in front of him and firing at Rumlow all in one swift movement. Both Rumlow and Sam ducked out of the way at the arrow that went hurtling towards one of the empty cubicles.

"There are no prisoners in HYDRA, just order," Rumlow panted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood back up straight. "And with order comes pain. You ready for yours?"

"I thought I told you to shut the hell up," Sam responded, before running right towards Rumlow.

Katniss pulled the gun from her holster, removing the safety and testing out the shot, pointing and aiming at Rumlow. He and Sam were already locked together around the neck, Rumlow trying to jerk Sam in front of the bullet and Sam pulling him down onto the ground.

There was a loud jolt that shook the entire building, Katniss and Clint both looking up to see what the hell had caused that. Along the wall that had windows, Katniss could see that the sky had ultimately disappeared. Instead was nothing but metal and whatever else, groaning and scraping along the side of the Triskelion. It was one of the Helicarriers, crashing into the building.

The sight of the Helicarrier coming down tore everyone off guard for a moment, giving Rumlow his chance to break away from Sam and go straight for Katniss. He knocked her flat onto her back, twisted grin on his face as he kept one leg on her arm, allowing her no chance to wiggle free. That didn't stop her from squirming against his grip, desperate to get away from him. Her gun had been knocked flat out of her hand, only a few feet away from her. She was reaching, groaning in pain as her fingers stretched for it as far as humanely possible. Just another inch and it would be in her reach.

Meanwhile, Rumlow had his hand tightening around her throat, cutting off her air supply. Coughing and choking, she thrashed around, trying to free herself or grab her gun, whichever came first.

"Sorry about this sweetheart. Maybe you'll be with mommy soon," he said, his voice dripping in content as he tried to reach for her pin to activate it. Her eyes flooded with rage, she lifted her head as far as she could and bit him in the arm,  _hard_. He winced in pain, recoiling off of her just in time for her to reach the gun. Picking it up, she fired at him, the bullet sinking into his shoulder.

"We gotta get the hell out of here!" Sam yelled, Clint pulling Katniss to her feet right as the Helicarrier started to break the windows, crashing into the wall and starting to cut through the floor. Only a split second was devoted to staring at it, horrified.

Clint broke the silence among the two. "Run!" He pushed Katniss in front of him, starting her off at a run towards nothing in particular. There was no escape, only the other end of the building. And then it clicked with her. They were going to jump.

Sam had caught up with her, screaming into his comm. "Please tell me that you got that chopper in the air! Forty-first floor, northwest corner!"

In the midst of her run, Katniss took a glance over her shoulder, only to see that Rumlow was right on their heels, trying to catch up. Her legs were screaming in pain but she kept pushing herself – she'd never have to walk again if she could just make it to the end of this, only a few more feet to go.

"Stay –  _not an option!_ " Sam yelled, Katniss' head darting back in front of her. They were so close to the edge now, and they kept growing closer, closer, Katniss pushing with everything that she had left in her to make it those last few steps. No, if she was going to die, then this was how she wanted to go.

And then the next thing she knew, there was glass shattering all around them as their feet met nothing, soaring straight into free fall. She would have appreciated the buzz of adrenaline, the wind whipping around her, but right as she tried to find her peace with essentially dying here and now, there was a jolt from her blazer, a shocking sensation hitting her straight in the chest. Katniss' eyes flew open wide, the scream trapped in her at the immense pain.

The last thing she remembered before she completely blacked out was the feel of someone's hand, latching onto hers.


	24. where the pieces lay

"Katniss! Katniss, can you hear me?"

Voices, so many voices that sounded as though they were underwater. Or maybe she was the one underwater, she wasn't sure. The only thing she was certain of was the humming sensation underneath her back, like she was floating on an entire colony of bees, feeling the vibrations run up and down her back. The voices got louder and louder, along with a steady whirring noise. And then of course, the stinging in her chest, as if an entire colony of bees had stung her all right in the same place. "Katniss, come on," one of the voices said, much louder than they had been.

A groan slipped out of her, weakly moving her fingers around. She slowly dared to open an eye, the brightness causing her to see black spots in her vision. Around her there was a general sigh of relief, her eyes fluttering open to see nothing but the sky ahead of her. For a moment, she was under the vague impression that she'd  _actually_  died; the sky was never this close before and this… _capacious_.

Until she realized that the whirring noise was coming from the blades of the helicopter they were all currently crammed into.

Things began to pile on her all at once; no, she'd definitely not died. She'd jumped out of the Triskelion with Sam and Clint, both of whom were cramped up in the copter, looking as though they were on the verge of passing out. And then there was Fury and Natasha, Natasha having stripped of her former disguise and sitting above her, smoothing the hair out of her face. "Katniss, are you okay?"

"Chest…" she managed to utter out. God, just  _another_  thing wrong with her. First the legs, then her hearing, now her chest – she might as well resign her fate to being completely broken. Or perhaps, she could be the first to be half human, half android.

"Pretty sure her pin activated the minute we jumped off the building," Clint muttered, an edge of spite in his voice. Clearly, he wasn't too thrilled about how things had gone down – judging by the sound of it, if Rumlow had somehow  _survived_  that explosion, Clint would be first in line to see otherwise.

"Rumlow was Pierce's favorite, the thought of him having a remote on him too doesn’t surprise me any," Natasha muttered under her breath. "Have we still not gotten a lock on Rogers?"

The mention of Steve sent Katniss struggling to sit up, trying to pull herself off of the floor there in the chopper. "Whoa, what the hell do you think  _you're_  doing?" Sam said, as Natasha all but forced Katniss back down.

"S-Steve, what happened to Steve?" she stammered, still groggy and not fully awake yet.

"Hey –  _hey_ , lay back down. You can't go anywhere, we're thousands of feet in the air," Natasha said quietly. Even though she didn't like it, Katniss let her head fall back onto the floor, her eyes still trained on her mother in anticipation for an answer. "We…well, we don't know. He was on Charlie when the Helicarriers went down, and we're trying to figure out where the hell he could have gone."

"Bucky was with him." Panic started to kick in as she let the words sink into her brain, understanding the reality of what that meant. "Oh, god, Bucky was with him." The last time she'd seen him he'd been dangling over the edge of the Helicarrier, more than likely Bucky's doing, and now he was unaccounted for. Something about that unnerved her, set her on edge. She found her strength again, much to everyone's dismay as she propped herself up on her elbows, pulling the rest of her body up and inching towards the side of the helicopter.

"Whoa –”

“– Katniss, you have got to sit  _down_  –”

"Shh," she said, the hand that wasn't holding her up steady and inside the copter reaching around her shoulder to wave them all into silence. The height was dizzying as she looked down; she wasn't sure if she'd made the wisest decision in doing this, but if there was one thing that was still good to her, it was her eyesight. "You said he was on Charlie?"

"Yeah –”

"There," she said, snapping her fingers. "Charlie; they put the names on the side of the Helicarrier. It's in the river, the…the Potomac." Geography class with Tony had finally seen its one and only benefit – and use, ever.

"You heard that?" Natasha yelled over her shoulder in the direction of their pilot. "Potomac, take us down by the banks."

"And you need to sit back  _down_ ," Clint interrupted, grabbing Katniss' wrist and pulling her back farther inside the helicopter. She found herself sitting in the floor, right in between both Natasha and Clint's legs. "This thing has a weight limit, and we gotta keep it balanced, you know."

Her head fell back against their knees, eyes closing. So far, this counted as the longest day of her life, maybe even topping the Battle of New York. All she wanted to do now was sleep. Sleep was something she'd been running away from for god only knows how long; the nightmares that flashed along her eyelids every time she ran out of fumes to run on had kept her at bay. And now, she was desperate for a little peace, and endless time for her to rest. That was all she had now, was time.

The chopper found its way back down the ground, landing on the riverbank. Despite her shaky footing, Katniss nearly elbowed Sam clean in the face trying to be the first on the ground. "Damn, girl must really want to find her boyfriend." It didn't take any sort of witnessing what was going on behind her to know that Clint was the one responsible for the sound of someone whacking another someone over the head.

Natasha was able to catch up with her the fastest, grabbing her by the shoulders and spinning her around to where she was face-to-face with her mother. "Slow down," she hissed.

"We have to find him," Katniss replied, jerking out of Natasha's grip.

"You're not looking for him by yourself, you can barely  _walk_." She had a valid point, but Katniss was much too stubborn and determined to settle on Natasha's terms.

"I'm going by myself. I won't wander off too far, whatever other shit you want to hear me promise, I promise. Please, just…let me." Her eyes met her mother's – she knew Natasha was seeing Clint reincarnated when she looked back at her – pleading, desperate to do this on her own. She had to. Natasha's eyes flitted over her face, finally sighing impatiently.

"Fine, go, get out of here. You better get lost before Clint realizes I turned you loose into the wild." Katniss didn't respond, nodding once at her before disappearing behind some of the foliage and starting to make her way along the riverbank.

Her mind was one track only, and the only thing looping was Steve. She had to find Steve and fast.  _He's here somewhere, I know it_ , she tried to reassure herself. She kept walking fast, trying to put a good deal of distance between herself and the others. One hand was knotted in her hair as she looked around with every step she took, desperate to locate him before the others did.

That was about the time she collided with something, something that was most definitely not a tree and was  _definitely_  not Steve. Looking up, she was stunned to see that it was a man, with dark, shaggy hair and a uniform on and a metal arm – Bucky. Her eyes widened, tongue suddenly made of sand and she couldn't find anything left in the back of her throat to say. Instead, she stood there in front of him, completely paralyzed. He didn't make any move either; if anything, he seemed just as frightened as she was.

She watched as he slowly lifted his human hand, pointing past the bushes towards the river. Neither of them said anything, silence enveloping them. Finally, Katniss gave a small nod and took off in the direction he'd pointed her in.

Emerging from the brush, she made her way through the clearing where she saw just as she was promised. There was Steve, lying on the edge of the bank, his eyes closed and soaking wet. She ran to him, losing her balance and sliding roughly on her knees in front of him. Her hands trembled as she brushed the hair from his eyes, desperately searching for a pulse. It took a minute – she was too anxious to keep a steady hand or properly tell what was going on, but the minute she found what she was looking for, she felt an enormous wave of relief crash over her.

"It's over," she whispered to him, as someone from the team – she had no idea who, it might've been Clint and it might've been Natasha – found them, calling that they'd got him. Katniss leaned down, her lips pressing against his forehead gently. It was over.

* * *

Leaving the side of Steve's hospital bed hadn't proved difficult, but in Katniss' mind, it saved everyone miles of trouble if she stayed in the recliner chair in the corner, waiting for him to wake up. Her legs didn't have to work one hundred percent fine if she was merely sitting, she could keep her aids out because there would be no one to hear talk, and she could sleep to her heart's desire. Sleep came easier than it had in years, mostly because she'd never felt so exhausted in her life and every time she closed her eyes, nothing appeared on the other side. No rogue Chitauri, no Pierce killing all of her family, just…nothing.

A day and a half had passed since everything had unfolded at the Triskelion. A day and a half since the whole world shifted on its axis, as Katniss liked to think. Nothing was the same anymore. Every news channel played the same reports, all of which were about them; about SHIELD's fall and HYRDA's infiltration, who Aldrich Killian was and why he’d targeted Tony, the whole gigantic mess of downtown DC, how Natasha had dumped every file onto the Internet, the overall mess the Avengers had created under a timespan of seventy-two hours. She watched on mute of course — no reason to get her blood boiling over speculation and commentary.

Sam's house had turned into something like a refugee harbor; Clint and Natasha had decided to camp out there, since there were fairly good chances of Tony's safe house being on the roster she'd so graciously thrown out into the open. Bruce and Tony had both sent in their personal all-clear signals, Bruce being back at the Tower and Tony in California since Happy was being released from the hospital.

Things were about as normal as they'd be from now on.

Everyone was discussing their next on the down low, and then their next-next after that. She supposed at any given moment Clint or Natasha would be coming around, trying to weasel an answer out of her, but the truth to it was that she didn't quite know. She knew that her parents would fall off the grid almost entirely, especially after Natasha leaked her whole past to the world and chances were, it wouldn't find much acceptance among the government. Tony would be heading right back to the Tower with Bruce, Pepper in tow – more news that she'd had to find out from a news outlet, but it relieved her nonetheless – and chances were, Steve would go off to find Bucky. It was the only option that made sense; he was never one who could sit still for long, and Katniss ultimately knew that he would drive himself insane over it until he found him. And then there was her, who just simply didn't know. She missed her home in the Tower, her thirteenth-floor bedroom and the training gyms and as ridiculous as they were, game nights with Tony and the others. At the same time, she wanted to be with Clint and Natasha, now that they were going to be around and not constantly darting out on messages. Then there was Steve, an entirely new hurdle to jump over.

Hell, she was just going to go live with Sam. Maybe that would be the least stressful option.  _Funny, how now the most stressful thing in the world is figuring out who to go off with after all this_.

Katniss was flipping through an old magazine absentmindedly when Steve woke up – she didn't have much else to do – the news turned on and the volume playing quietly as she didn't have her aids in. The movement startled her a little, even if he'd only turned his head to the side. His eyes were still half-closed, a weak smile making its way across his lips when he realized it was her. She reached for her aids that she'd left on the night table, putting them in and making sure that they were on. The sounds of the news reporter talking about Tony and Killian flooded her ears, almost like she'd simply pressed resume on the rest of the noise surrounding her.

"Hey," she said softly, putting her magazine down in her lap face-down. "You're up."

Steve nodded weakly. His eyes weren't all the way open, but she could see that he was looking around, trying to survey his surroundings. "You're in the hospital," Katniss told him. "You've only been out for a day and a half."

"Mm, not too bad," he mumbled, almost nothing more than a steady murmur of nothing. "What happened?"

She wasn't entirely sure of what to tell him; she wasn't sure what all he  _remembered._  And truth was, she didn't know the half of it. She didn't know what happened on the Helicarrier with Bucky, and if that was what he was looking for, no one would be of any help. "I, um…" she started, swiveling in her seat to rest both her hands on the edge of his bed. “Well, I found you on the banks of the Potomac. Do you remember that?" Her voice was soft, gentle, a voice that she hadn't used to address Steve in almost ages.

"Yeah," was his quite reply, nodding his head ever so slightly. "Mm, yeah, I remember that."

A smile etched its way onto her face, thin and close-lipped, as she rested her chin on the steeples of her hands. "Good," she said softly. "That's good."

"Bucky…" Steve started, the smile disappearing as quickly as it had come on. "B—Bucky…"

"Hey, shh," she whispered, reaching up to smooth the hair from her face. "It's okay." She remembered seeing him that day at the river, how he'd quietly pointed Steve out to her, how he hadn't made any move to reach forth and kill her. It seemed more like Bucky than the Winter Soldier, and she remembered how they'd moved past each other quietly. Silently helping one another; he helping her find him, her allowing him to get away. Ultimately all boiling down to Steve. Her voice fell softer, only to where he could hear her, if that. "He's okay. He's okay."

Katniss stared at him for a minute, watching as he slowly came back to with every second that ticked on. She'd never seen him like this, never seen him so exposed in front of her. And it was nice, so much nicer than all the fights and arguing and running at each other's throats with weapons drawn. Her eyes closed, burying her lips farther into her hands as she let her thoughts consume her. The kiss back on the Helicarrier – Sam making the entire moment outrageously awkward – and how gentle it had been, even if it only lasted a second. How it was as though if he didn't get it freed from his system, he wouldn't have been able to live with himself. How he must've been itching to do it, whether a heat of the moment or something that had been building up for weeks and months now.

"Kat?" She heard Steve mutter, her eyes fluttering back open as she quirked an eyebrow in response. "Are we…we okay?"

There were probably a million different ways for his question to be interpreted. It could have referred to the team, it could've referred to their state of survival, and then there was the possibility of it referring to  _them_. She felt on the spot, unsure of what answer to give him. So instead of overthinking it, instead of complicating it and make it something that it wasn't, she merely let the corners of her lips tug into another half-smile.

"Yeah," she mumbled against her skin. "Yeah, we're okay."


	25. new endings

"This is probably the worst idea you've  _ever_  had."

"Need I remind you that you were the one who suggested it?"

"I didn't suggest it, I was casually trying to –”

“–  _what_ , imply it, then?" Katniss teased, brushing past a now frowning Clint Barton. In all fairness, this  _had_  been his idea, and not hers, despite what he was consistently arguing. It wasn't even for him either, which is what really sold him out. He didn't want this for himself, no, he'd all but talked her into this one solely for her, and he would be her trusty companion in what was indeed, probably a terrible idea.

And yet for some stupid reason, she completely agreed with him.

It had been nearly two weeks since the fall of SHIELD, HYDRA – whoever the hell they were, Katniss still wasn't sure – and every day had been a new one. If it wasn't Natasha mouthing off at Capitol Hill, it was finding out that Tony was undergoing surgery to remove his arc reactor. Steve, the not-so-super-after-all soldier, was still 'recovering' from his hospital visit, as Sam liked to tease him. And then there was Clint, encouraging a rather bored Katniss to get a tattoo.

Having been sentenced to doing pretty much nothing until the end of time, she went right along with it. Stupid, yes it was, something she'd regret, most definitely, but this was the time for mistakes and error. She felt somewhat free, without any ball and chain tied to her foot. She had the room for a mistake and error, and by god, was she going to make one.

The tattoo artist had provided her with a large variety of options, ranging from Chinese symbols to lovely floral patterns. Clint had been particularly fond of a heart with a ribbon going through it with either his or Natasha's name in it, to which she'd kindly flashed a middle finger his way. If she was going to make any kind of mistake, it was going to be one that she was positive about.

Finally, she'd settled on a small bird along her shoulder blade, after hearing the tattoo artist's symbolism within it. "Freedom," he'd said as she'd stopped to admire it for a moment. "Most the people I have coming in here wanting a bird want it to symbolize feelin' uninhibited, like they're letting go of some kind of dead weight and inviting in a change."

Well, if she hadn't been sold before, she certainly was by then.

So, she had gotten up in the chair, resting with her stomach against the chair and her cheek leaning against the headrest and Clint hovering the entire time. Part of her assumed it was because he still had yet to trump the whole fatherly lurking thing, but she ultimately knew it was because he couldn't wait to tease her about the pain. "This is safe, right?" he asked as the tattoo artist pulled the shoulder of her shirt down, exposing the area of skin.

Katniss had to fight the groan rising in her throat. "Honestly, you're the one who's all rah-rah tattoo and  _now_  you want to ask if it's safe, after I'm already up in the chair?" Clint held his hands up in mock arrest.

"Look, all I know is is if that you leave with some sort of disease, this poor guy will have a rather…angry bunch on his hands." Ah yes, the wrath of the Black Widow, Iron Man, Thor, Captain America and the original rage monster (as Tony still liked to refer to him) himself, the Hulk. Something anyone would look forward to, especially over a tattoo. She briefly contemplated the poor choice she'd made in having Clint accompany her with this process; she was sure that Tony would talk less at something like this.

"You know," the artist mused as he went about cleaning the area of skin she'd specified. "I have to say that I don't hardly get fathers coming in with their daughters to get tattoos. Most of them all just show up when they're drunk or go behind their backs, not bring them with them."

Clint grinned. "We're not exactly your normal father-daughter duo," he replied cheerfully. If there had ever been a larger understatement, then that would have been it. Most father daughter duos didn't fight off alien invasions, work for the same government division that had fallen only a few weeks prior, and run around with some of the most powerful people on the planet. She kept her mouth shut, and turned her face back so her forehead was resting against the headrest.

It didn't hurt like she'd imagined it; after being stabbed in the back by a Chitauri, a participant numerous fights and explosions, the loss of her hearing and several daredevil stunts that involved jumping out of flying aircrafts and windows, getting a tattoo was like a rest on a feather bed. It was easy for her to close her eyes as she let her arms hang by her sides limply as the artist went right to work.

She'd requested for a hint of blue in the tattoo as well, for several reasons. Blue was the color of Clint's eyes, and Natasha's, if she was particularly happy that day. Blue was the color of Steve's eyes as well, the color of his uniform. Blue was the color of Tony's ark reactor, of the Avengers logo that he'd had put on the side of the Tower. Blue kept popping up in her world, many different shades decorating her surroundings.

"What kind of bird did you say that was?" Clint mused from his corner, where he wasn't being much help with the small exception of his commentary, seen mostly as pointless and bothersome if anything at all.

"It's a bird, Barton, why does it have to be a particular species?"

Katniss tilted her head to the side, to see Clint's arms folded over his chest as he used the outermost hand to point at her. "Maybe you got the dodo bird, it'd be a fantastic fit." As if on cue, she rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"What kind of bird is this?" she repeated, directed for the tattoo artist. She was fairly sure that he didn't want to answer nonsensical questions while trying not to fuck up her skin, but if it would put Clint's idiotic comments away for the time being, she'd take her chances.

She felt the needle stop puncturing her skin for a moment, the artist pausing to wipe around the outside of the area her bird was placed. "Mm, I'm not sure the exact species, I think you're the first to ask me that one," he hummed, Katniss shooting Clint a glare. "Mockingbird, maybe?"

"That blue reminds me of a blue jay," Clint noted, completely irrelevant. For a moment he fell quiet, studying the tattoo on his daughter's shoulder. "It's like your own little hybrid bird on your shoulder. A little mockingjay."

The tattoo artist chuckled as he resumed his artwork, filling in more blue along the wings. "That's a good one," he said. "Mockingjay. That could almost serve as some kinda nickname or something, you know?"

Almost instantly after the words had fallen from his lips, Katniss and Clint's eyes snapped onto each other, an almost sinister grin spreading across Clint's face. It took everything in her not to throw her head back and let out an agitated groan. God, she could hear it now.  _Might as well brace myself for the new embroidered utensils with_ that _written all over,_  she thought bitterly to herself.  _Next tattoo, I'm bringing Natasha._

* * *

Tony's California house had been reduced to rubble, and Katniss had yet to see the aftermath of the missiles that struck. Her boots crunched leaves, stepping in between broken bricks and taking into account how ivy had started to grow in the places that had gone untouched for almost a month. Ghosts lived here; she could hear the voices, the screams from that day, the emotions running high striking her nostalgically in the chest. Something about the atmosphere seemed so very off, like she was walking on a graveyard after a tragedy.

Alongside her walked Tony, quiet, with both of his hands shoved deep into his pockets. This had been his idea, for her to come with him before they set foot on some new journey she was sure would end them up in a sea of hot water at some point. Instead, she was surrounded by serenity, the wind gently pulling her hair back behind her and the smell of salt floating along with the breeze. She wasn't quite sure why he'd brought her here of all places. This opened wounds for him too; the last time he'd been here, he'd watched his whole world fall apart. Happy's incident – even though he had made a full recovery, as promised – the fights and the surprise visits and ultimately, watching it all go down in a blaze. And yet, here they were. Maybe it had something to do with the healing process as a whole. She didn't really know.

"Where'd you say you were headed after this?" Tony asked, breaking the silence around them. She glanced over at him, only to see that his eyes were fixed straight ahead.

"Don't know," she shrugged dismissively. "Steve and I are going blind on this one; all we have is the intel Natasha swiped." Her decision to go with Steve had been the easiest. She had been right on her prediction that he would be ready to chase after the ghost trail Bucky had left after the events in DC the minute he got back onto his feet, and he'd only had to look at her for her to say yes. Something about the way Bucky had looked at her that day at the Potomac had shifted something inside of her, leaving her with some sort of feeling of dissatisfaction. Like her mission wasn't quite over yet. Now that SHIELD was gone, there would be plenty of opportunities to be with Natasha and Clint. There would be many unfortunate game nights at the Tower with Tony. And while there was a large possibility she and Steve would be running straight into a brick wall, she didn't have anything else to do. There was all the time in the world left, so why not?

A small laugh escaped Tony's throat as he shuffled along, kicking a small pebble as he went. "I have to say, baby bird, you and Star Spangled Senior Citizen heading off on your own freaks us all out. A lot." She rolled her eyes; this had been quite the popular topic among the group once Katniss had told them what she was doing, and there had been many jokes about maps and visitor's centers being their new best friend. "I think Clint's terrified you two will see it as a chance to elope and then never come home."

She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, eyes casting downwards. "We wouldn't be gone long, anyways…" she admitted, voice trailing off and being replaced with the sound of the ocean beneath them. “I can't have you renting out my room for extra money."

"Damn," he cursed, and although he sounded as though he was kidding, she knew that the idea was more than likely not off his radar.

"You can't keep me away forever," Katniss reminded him. "The Tower is my home. You guys are my home." The words tasted odd on her tongue; they always bounced around inside of her thoughts and she did her best to express them as well as she could without having to physically spit the words out. Even if she wasn't the most in touch with her emotions, saying it felt nice, and it felt right. Granted, she knew Tony was probably having JARVIS record the conversation she he could save it for future reference, but she didn't seem to mind.

It took a little looking, but she could see the smile start to crack across his face, and a genuine one at that. Something that she enjoyed seeing from her godfather. "Yeah," he agreed. "I guess you're right on that one. And we'd probably come kidnap you if you tried to stay away forever." Ah, typical Tony. These were the things she missed most when they were gone.

There was only so far to walk until they had reached the edge of what once was the patio and was now a pile of rubble. Ahead was the ocean, blue and steady in its motion. It was endless, as far as her eyes could see. The sounds of the waves hitting against the rocks below flooded her ears, peace washing over her. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Tony's hands rummaged around in his pockets, reaching for something.

His arc reactor surfaced when his hand withdrew. She'd remembered talking to him after his surgery to have it removed; she hadn't known how to feel when the news had hit her ears. "What now?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper above the sound of the waves. Tony glanced over at her, one of his eyebrows arching. Katniss tilted her head towards the now lifeless hunk of metal in his hands. "You don't have the arc reactor anymore, it's not…a part of you anymore."

"I'll never stop being Iron Man," he mused quietly, turning the arc reactor over and over in his hands. "It'll always be a part of me, it's just not, you know – a  _part of me_." His eyes watched the reactor in his hands as he toyed with it.

In her pocket was a new dead weight; Natasha had given her the flash drive with all of the files on it that she'd extracted from Insight what seemed like ages ago. Right before her hearing at Capitol Hill, she'd given it to her, only so it wouldn't fall into any wrong hands. She hadn't known what to do with it, so for the meantime, it had been in the pocket of her coat, sitting still until she found a means of use – or disposal.

Mimicking Tony's actions, she reached her hand inside and pulled it out, the cold faux metal smooth underneath her fingertips. The SHIELD logo stared up at her, a void currency now. Funny, how such a small object nearly brought about the end of the world as she knew it and tore them all apart.

"What's that?"

Katniss glanced away from the drive only to see that Tony was watching her, his grip around the arc reactor tighter than before. Her eyes cast back down at the drive, exhaling slowly. "Pierce…Pierce thought that you guys had seen the contents of this, thought that when we talked about targets on our backs that we'd gotten into the files." She shook her head for no reason in particular; if anything, off instinct. "One little flash drive that nearly ruined our lives."

"You sound like it's the first time this has happened." A bitter laugh pushed past her lips at the comment, fingers running over the SHIELD logo absentmindedly.

And then before she knew what was happening, Tony was taking the arc reactor balled up in his fist and wound his arm back, sending the arc reactor out into the open. She watched, eyes wide as it sailed in the air for a moment, only before landing somewhere in the water with only a ripple left in its memory.

For a moment, things were silent between the two of them. Then Katniss felt the muscles in her arm moving, throwing the flash drive right behind Tony's. It didn't make it nearly as far, but the ripple it made carried out into the one of the arc reactor, blending right along with the waves that met the rocks as soon as they crested.

"That felt nice," she admitted.

"Beyond nice," Tony snorted. "We should do this more often, except with your parent's furniture."

She cracked a smile, her sights turning his way for only a moment. "They'd probably kill us."

"I'm pretty sure they love us way too much to let that happen. They know we'd haunt them from the grave, and then on into the afterlife." He wasn't wrong by any means.

Things fell still, with the exception of the wind and the ocean and the rest of the world around them. Her hair blew in the breeze as she watched the currents swirl underneath her feet, like she was standing on the top of the world. Finally, she felt as though the turbulence had come to an end, the weight being pried from her shoulders. A shift in her balance, the way that she stood; she could feel the shift. Something had changed, and it had only just begun.


End file.
